


Once Upon A Time

by LillithEvans



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), RBW Boyz (Band), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:39:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillithEvans/pseuds/LillithEvans
Summary: A collection of nonsensical shorts1: Warm - Dongho/Daehwi - rated: T2: Laundry - Minhyun/Dongho - rated: M3: Twinkle Twinkle - Minhyun/Seongwu, Seongwu/Daniel - rated: M4: Oh, Look - Jinyoung/Daehwi - rated: T5: Big Dreams - Gunhee/Dongho, Dongho/Daehwi - rated: T6: Puppy Love - Jinyoung/Daehwi - rated: T7: What's In A Name? - Dongho & Pinky - rated: G8: Prospect - Jinyoung/Daehwi - rated: G9: You - Minhyun/Minki, Minhyun/Seongwu - rated: M





	1. Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongho dies.
> 
> Daehwi cries.

  
He marches like a corpse himself.

Which is fine - because he is a corpse- he’s been a glorified corpse for many years now.

The man across him has been a corpse for a few minutes. The name of the recently deceased is Kang Dongho and Kang Dongho is an idiot - beloved by all - generally dumbest man on the planet-

Daehwi feels his shoulders jerk, a sob breaking through his throat as he looks at his face.

There’s been moments before.

Moments where Dongho doesn’t make Daehwi want to scrounge out the beard-confused face that belongs to the idiot with his own always sharpened talons.

Sure. These moments can be rare and far enough from each other that Daehwi often even forgets that they’ve ever existed but -

This moment here - with Dongho’s face at peace in a way Daehwi’s never really seen?

This is the longest and most painful moment Daehwi has ever felt.

He doesn’t often feel pain - that’s one of the good things that comes with the reality that Minhyun has gifted him.

He likes that about himself. He likes being an Other. So, being thankful for this pain is an even more confusing emotion for him.

Theoretically, he should hate this but his pain has informed him of how he feels about the presence of the all too mortal Kang Dongho in his immortal life.

Or at least how he felt. Minutes ago. Because that emotion is now changed, recognizable and revolting.

His head crumbles on the body before him, fingers clenching to the fabric over Dongho’s chest.

A little earlier - just a little earlier - and maybe Daehwi would have been able to save him.

Dongho may not have made a great Other but - he’d be alive in some sense of the word - and they’d be together.

Sure - Daehwi may not have realized what the stretch of Dongho’s smile means to him -

But Daehwi would have saved him out of some sense of duty regardless and lived on oblivious, ignorant and annoyed until the time was right and his heart lurched back to life and maybe - just maybe - he could have been human again.

This was not the right time for humanity to peek its head into his life, to remind him that maybe there are parts of him that are not yet dead the way Dongho is.

He pushes himself further into the cold shell of a person under him, tears soaking the plain white T-shirt until peeks of pale skin say hello to his blurry eyes.

Coughs sound out in his ears and he’s not sure if that’s him croaking or one of the idiots behind him.

Now that he’s realized the pain Dongho causes him not only stems from irritation but also something that’s much more valuable - he can’t fathom the thought that he’s had the chance to feel his heart beat against Dongho’s very own - to choose to make him his - to save his life -

And he didn’t take it.

He hates himself.

Daehwi may as well have shoved the bullet in the man himself.

“Daehwi-“

He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t separate himself from Dongho right now - he just won’t.

If he’s never going to get another moment with him-

“Daehwi-“ Overcome with regret, his lips purse together, the shape of a perfect O pressed on the very center of Dongho’s ribs because -

Because, fuck, he’s been in love with this loser this whole time and he was stupid enough to ignore it.

“Oh-Kay - this is going to get weird fast and he’s not responding so -can someone please explain to me why Daehwi’s kissing my sternum?”

His eyes fly open as he looks up at the all too well known arrogant expression on Kang Dongho’s face.

Except now - Daehwi’s crying.

He, Lee Daehwi, master manipulator of otherworldly creatures and practical mind reader - is crying. “You’re alive...you’re alive? You’re alive?! You’re alive!!! How the hell are you alive? I saw that ass put the bullet in you myself!”

“Excuse me! I’m asking the questions here -“ And of course, Dongho is laughing at him because normally Daehwi does his very best to be the emotional equivalent of a prison wall and walls don’t cry - unless there’s something terribly wrong with them. “You’re willingly KISSING ME?”

If he was a less prideful man - he may have used this question as an invitation to show Dongho what it means to dance with a guardian of death.

He wouldn’t care that it’s in front of everyone, that sort of thing doesn’t matter when you finally get back the world you thought you lost. 

He’d grab Dongho’s starched white collar - pull his drenched shirt against his own and let him feel as if he’s being suffocated within an inch of his life. 

Because that’s what Daehwi feels like just when he’s looking at the other man.

And that doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t feel. He shouldn’t feel. There’s something incredibly wrong with him and he should be telling Minhyun.

But this - feeling.

It’s the first thing he’s owned in a long time. Something to call his. Even if the object of his affections is not necessarily his - his own feelings are in his possession and this is something he wants to hold dear to himself.

And maybe - Dongho will spark the smallest of flames inside of him. Someday.

Maybe Dongho’ll make him warm.

Daehwi’s forgotten what it’s like to be warm.

But his pride does exist - and so he uses his palms to push himself off the gruff, immature boy below him -

Only to be caught off guard by Dongho’s hands running over his cheeks.

Dongho doesn’t ask him why he’s having this reaction, which Daehwi appreciates because he doesn’t quite understand it either as theoretically it shouldn’t be possible -

All future thoughts are silenced in his mind.

Because Dongho has kissed him.

Kang Dongho’s face is by his, close, leaning forward to wipe streams of tears on Daehwi’s face with lips pressed on wet skin. This only serves to make Daehwi sob harder as Dongho’s larger arms circle over his struggling body.

When he was given a chance at this second life all those years ago - Minhyun turned him into a block of animated ice.

But Kang Dongho?

He’s a whole bonfire.

“Did you really think I’d die without at least taking you out on a date?”

He hiccups, bubbles of air exploding inside of him and shattering his heart with every graze of Dongho’s fingers by the hair falling over his forehead. “With -that -face- you- wish.”

Everyone laughs.

Except for him.

He buries his head back into his corpse’s chest - thankful for the sound of this slow and steady pumping heart that has given his own life.

——-

 


	2. Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongho does laundry.
> 
> Minhyun teaches him how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know what this is - all I know is Dongho was doing laundry and then Minhyun popped up and then they did laundry together.

**Laundry**

 

 

 

There’s very few things that bother him.

But doing laundry and bad feedback definitely rank up there on that list.

This has just - been - the worst day.

“I fucking hate him - who the hell is he to say ‘ _your arguments need to have more concrete evidence to be considered D-level_ ’ - wait till I make this guy suck what else is at my D-level-“

“Honestly Dongho,” The voice on the other end of the line rings out as he shoves the phone harder into the tiny little crack of space between his neck and his shoulders. “I wish I gave a fuck about your grades or your penis or anything in your life, to be honest, but I’m just not a good friend -“

“Thanks Ren -“

“No problem - glad we had this talk. I really only keep you around because you’re kind of cute and tiny and buff and that works well at the club when my posse needs balancing. I’m hanging up now. Have fun doing your TA -“

“Don’t be ridiculous - I’m not actually going to confront Hwang Minhyun - I’m going to try to figure out this laundry shit man - my mom’s been giving me hell - was it worth it to move out?” He groans ready to launch into yet another tirade of complaints.

Choi ‘Ren’ Minki being ever so familiar with his patterns from years past has found the perfect moment to hang up on him without so much as a good bye.

He hits his head against the wall, catching the attention of the only other two people in the room. “Sorry - bad grades - I don’t know what I’m doing with my life - I miss my mother -“

Like Ren, the other two people turn away because they also don’t give a fuck about his problems.

His problems have many names right now.

Colours and Whites.

Blacks and Brights.

Delicates and Towels.

Sheets and Pillowcases.

Hwang Minhyun and Laundry.

He might as well wash everything one by one by the Han River the way this is planned out - so Dongho takes one look to the left.

It’s an freshman girl with glasses bridged upon her nose peering into the metallic cave of washer #3.

He takes another look to the right at washer #5.

It’s a tall, relatively similar aged, looking big headed handsome guy who probably will not give a fuck how he does his laundry.

Washer#6 it is.

With the black duffel case launched over his shoulders, he wanders over to the mechanical contraption that he has long avoided since his mother’s slippers asked him to stay out of there.

“Good morning,” His polite offering of a greeting to Korea’s Next Top Model is met with a disdainful look paired with an excellent scoff.

Just as well - you don’t make friends in a Laundromat. You get in, you get clean clothes, you get out.

He’s in - so now there’s just the getting clean clothes part - right -

He gulps as he opens his duffel and a myriad of colours, fabrics and textures wave out hello to him accompanied by the off sort of smell that only comes from stale gym clothes.

His mother would know what to do. She’d know just how to bring his clothes back to being in a semi-wearable ‘deodorized’ state.

He hears the tall boy beside him cough, but other than that tall boy voices no verbal complaint and for this Dongho is thankful and offers his own cough back.

In an attempt to rid himself of the trouble of this task, he turns over his duffel shaking out everything from underwear to loose T-shirts with ironic claims like ‘ _Gym. Tan. Laundry_ ’ into the washer. Best to get rid of this thing once and for all -

A hand comes over the washer and when Dongho’s eyes trail up the sinewy arm, he finds it accompanied by a gruff arrogant face. “You’re not serious.”

“About?”

“You can’t put the red briefs in the same wash as a white T-shirt - they’re washed separately -“

“Whoa - how did you know the briefs are my get lucky underwear?” Dongho’s face flushes the same colour as his underwear. “Cause they’re special - they get washed separately right?”

“No - they get washed separately because red is a colour that will bleed into your whites.” The correction is whispered with just enough irritation for Dongho to know that he has possibly overshared. “I just know basic laundry sense unlike some people -“

“Wow - how did you know?”

“I just told you I had no clue about your ‘lucky’ underwear -“

“No - no I mean - I -“ He’s going to smile now. Deliver up friendship and bashfulness in one perfect expression that will hopefully have the effect of having beautiful tall boy before him give in and give him a lesson in Laundry101. This guy seems like he knows what he’s doing - a skill Dongho could definitely use in his repetoire. “I don’t really have the faintest idea of what I’m supposed to be doing here- I’m a momma’s boy through and through - spoiled you know? Can’t survive on my own-“ This claim doesn’t have the effect Dongho intended for it to have - he was expecting kind proclamations of assistance and instead he’s receiving skeptical eyebrow lifts. “Please help me.”

The silence is deafening until Dongho groans, his already shorter frame may as well have been shrinking in the presence of his embarrassment with Mr.Tall Boy.

“Well, grab washer #7 for starters- you’ll need two - maybe more.” Dongho’s eyes lift up in shock, his jaw drops open, his teeth poke out happily and he races off towards the washer with renewed enthusiasm quickly turning his liquid detergent into the washer before his hand is pulled back with a hiss. “For fuck’s sake - do you want to start a flood of bubbles?”

Isn’t that the point of laundry? Is this a trick question? “No?” Almond eyes roll towards the back of a large head and instead he’s forced to find himself clenching his teeth together in an uncomfortable smile. “No.”

“Give it here.” He isn’t giving the detergent up so much as having it snatched away from his hands but this is not something he will argue against. Let the other boy with the experience and wisdom to battle the mechanical miracle of clothes washing win this war for him. “Up to the second line on the cup and that’s it - don’t just loosely pour soap into the washer. You’ll waste money or worse - cause equipment damage - or even worse - fuck up everyone’s clothes here -“

“Don’t want to do that.” From beside him, tall boy bristles when Dongho leans over his shoulders to observe the precise manner in which the other boy’s hands drawl and slip traces of liquid all over the washer. He’s managed to form immaculate little spirals of spreading fluid all over the washer. “Wow - that was beautiful.” His hands push together quickly in encouragement. “As you’d expect from a laundry pro-“

“Please stop clapping. That is weird. There’s also no such thing as a laundry professional.” The other boy turns to look at him, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Red underwear please.” His feet dash automatically to washer #6 where his underwear is still on proud display.

“Why are we starting with the red underwear?”

“For luck.”

“Makes sense.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

OH.

That _**is**_ funny! “See - I did not get that!” His snickers are ignored in favour of loading in other pieces from washer #6 into washer #7. “You’re really good at sorting-“

“Common sense.”

“Common sense. Laundry sense. Next thing you’ll tell me is you have good fashion sense!” His joke is received well. At least, that’s what he thinks since his knight-in-laundry armour is grunting at him. They should be friends. Definitely. If Dongho manages to convince this guy to be his friend then that means that he’ll have someone around always to do his laundry. “I’m Dongho, by the way - Kang Dongho. My friends call me Baekho though -“

“Your friends call you white tiger?” He nods. “Why?”

“Cause I’m a tiger in the sack, son!” The other boy’s frame stiffens as his head turns to look at Dongho mildly appalled. “That and my -“

“That’s quite enough information from you.”

“I thought we passed enough information when I told you about my **_get lucky_** underwear -“

“I thought it was just lucky -“

“See! You did not get that - we both miss things. We must be like - riding the same wavelength or something?“ He jumps up and down excitedly. “Hey, what do you think about being friends?”

“So I can call you white tiger? Not interested.”

“Call me whatever you want. I don’t care. What do you think about doing my laundry for like 1000 won?”

“Do I look like slave labour? Not interested.”

“What would interest you then?” He needs this guy in his life. In some capacity. Any capacity. This person knows how to do laundry - none of his other friends have ever known how to do laundry -

Ren’s just about useless at everything that’s not breathing and looking ridiculously beautiful.

Kyulkyung is so good at manipulating boys she hasn’t lifted a finger to do her own shit in the past - 3 years, he’d say?

Jonghyun just buys cheap new clothes online and has them delivered to his house every week since it’s easier than doing laundry.

He’s just about to give up hope when finally the tall boy clears his throat and lifts up the red underwear from washer #7. “What does it look like in action?”

“The underwear?” The recipient of his question does not confirm or deny what his initial intent is in asking Dongho to wear his own underwear. “It looks like I’m half naked -“

“And when it’s off?”

He squints. This sounds like another trick question. “Like - full naked?”

“And when are you in that state?” Wait - is that his imagination or is this guy’s voice getting a little more soft?

“Like - in the shower?” He’s forced to respond with no real understanding of why he’s being asked this. Regardless, his logical response earns him a smile. It’s a nice smile - even if it appears to be making fun of him.

“And when else?”

“At the doctor’s office for physicals?”

The gap between them narrows. “Is your doctor the only one who gives you physicals?”

“Well - he’s the only one licensed to - so, yes. Of course. I wouldn’t even know where to find someone who does unlicensed physicals?” Honestly - he’s confused.

This response has the other boy laugh at him even harder. “I think your friends need to give you a new nickname -“

This whole predicament has him feeling very much at a disadvantage. “Look are you going to do my laundry or not?”

“Sure.” Wait - what? No - it can’t be that easy. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? “Can’t turn down a ‘tiger’.”

Okay, this asshole is still laughing but Dongho can take that because the real joke is on this kid. He just got him to agree to doing his laundry. “Seriously?”

There’s a twinkle in his new friend’s eyes when he leans closer to Dongho’s ears. “One condition.”

“Sure - sure - whatever you want.”  
  
An open faced palm reaches for his phone from one of the washers. “You don’t have a phone password?”

“I’m an open book.” The real reason is that he can’t actually remember anything other than his name and his birthday. Everything else is extraneous information. He lives the two shit type lifestyle - one - two - fuggedhabout it!

When the phone is handed back to his hands, he gets a name.

Hwang Minhyun.

Shit.

He remembers that name. “I’m curious as to what your arguments are at a D-level -“ Hwang Minhyun’s eyes scroll down to land on said level and Dongho shakes his head slowly because no. No . No. He heard him when he walked in?!

“You’re my music theory TA?”

“And you’re the music theory flop student who skips every class!” Minhyun flicks his own residence card over the washers now - paying for both their laundry batches with an ease that captures Dongho’s fascination. “Come on then -“

“Where?”

“We have - 38 minutes and 37 seconds -“ Minhyun laughs. “Just enough time for you to give me a shot at performing an unlicensed physical-”

OH.

OH.

No - he can’t possibly - “You mean - I mean - isn’t this - a little -“

“Is there a problem?”

Well, not really. Hwang Minhyun is cute. He’s tall. He’s smart. He has a nice smile.

And well - Hwang Minhyun is doing his laundry.

And in light of all this knowledge. Hwang Minhyun is kind of irresistible because, despite making his life very difficult, Hwang Minhyun has also made his life very easy. “Well - I mean - my **_get lucky_** underwear is in the washer -“

“Don’t worry - it’ll be safe, I promise.” The drawl drips from Minhyun’s saliva slicked lips. “I think it’s time you try to get lucky without the underwear around.” Minhyun leans forward to him and Dongho gulps looking up because, by all assessments, this is a very unpredicted situation.

“I think you’re really good at arguments. Definitely A-level.” Minhyun laughs, hands winding down to Dongho’s fingers so he can pull him through the doors to Wonderland, into an elevator, down onto his bed and pressed to his lips.

Okay - so maybe - if this is how it’s going to be every week then -

He might help Minhyun with his own laundry.

(Maybe they’ll even do laundry every day - or twice a day - or for every second -) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps - laundry in this context is sex. They had sex.
> 
> The end.


	3. Twinkle Twinkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyun marries Seongwu.
> 
> Seongwu falls in love with him.
> 
> Daniel is supposed to make it all better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will not be what you expect.
> 
> This story is also based on a show that I watched in all of a week called the Imposters. I hope it's uploaded in your region bc it's AWESOME. (10 hours of my time that didn't get dedicated to writing and trust me my writing felt it - I constantly get rusty when I don't keep writing)
> 
> AS A RESULT - i decided to use the show to try to dust off some of the rust I was feeling.
> 
> Hopefully it worked :) 
> 
> NOTE: the following themes are mentioned - homophobia, suicide, sex. (this is slightly more explicit than any of my previous words but still not really explicit enough to warrant such a rating)

** Twinkle Twinkle **

 

 

 

 

“ONG SEONGWU – ONG SEONGWU – OPEN UP – WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST –“

 

 

 

****

****

****

“I’ve never seen anything like it, you know?”

Minhyun’s fingernails flutter right over the triangle of dots decorating his face, connecting them with light scratches.

It’s nice that he likes it.

At least that’s what Seongwu is hoping for – he’s hoping that Minhyun likes the black moles on his face and isn’t just like _‘Oh, I’ve never seen something like this. That some weird fucking moles dude - are you sure you're not like from a cult or something?_

At this point in his life, he's really heard it all -  “Guess I’m just one of a kind.”

The brown in his boyfriend’s eyes is an addicting sort of brown and truly hypnotizing. It often makes him feel like he does in front of those fondue fountains that are always at his family's company parties. Hungry, greedy, and like he wants to drown and die in chocolate. By contrast, dying in Minhyun’s eyes would be much much more - “Arrogant loser.”

He bites the corner of Minhyun’s chin, making him laugh.

He met Minhyun five months ago.

He walked into a chocolate shop.

It was Mother’s Day.

And he was late to brunch and lacking a gift to accompany the flowers already present in his hands.

But - he figured if he was going to be late anyways, might as well show up with a gift.

And that day - the world decided to gift him Hwang Minhyun from behind the counter along with the sixteen boxes of chocolate he bought.

A boyfriend happens to be the best bonus gift he's ever received from an otherwise bland shopping experience. A tall, painfully innocent looking, stupidly sexy boyfriend.

In the grand scheme of things, that's pretty much all Ong Seongwu ever wanted to know about Hwang Minhyun because the truth was that he fell in love with Minhyun as soon as the words ‘Two hundred and fourteen thousand won’ left the lips he has between his teeth right now.

But today's not supposed to be about light banter and insults - today Seongwu has to give him something. Something important. “I have something for you.” His heart jumps up from his chest into his throat. “If you want it.” 

“You do?” He must look nervous because Minhyun’s eyes have softened and turned into pillowed cushions of milk chocolate mousse that make him lick his lips as he nods carefully.

He’s had the chance to have a lot in his life. It’s one of the privileges of being adopted by the right sort of family at the right sort of time.

But he wants to make his own destiny now.

He wants to make his own world.

He wants to remember this day for the rest of his life. 

And maybe Hwang Minhyun will want to remember today for the rest of his life too.

 

 

 

 

****

****

 

"A half a kilo of the dark chocolate cranberry bark, three boxes of the amaretto milk chocolate truffles, one of the whiskey dark chocolate –“

“Are you trying to get drunk?” The large blond boy who has replaced Minhyun at the chocolate shop is a bit too smirk heavy, almost condescending in the way he looks at him with a smarmy expression behind the safety of the register.

Chuckling. "Shut up."

Like he has some sort of bloody right to look at Seongwu like he's a fool.

Which Seongwu supposes he is because the other boy's eyes relax. "Just saying - you look like you could use the company. When you're drinking I mean."

Technically, everyone in the world has the right to laugh at him right now.

Fools fall in love together.

And bigger fools fall in love alone. “Want to get drunk together?”

This only makes big blond buffoon laugh harder. Good enough. For now. “I’m off at 5.”

He has to get over him somehow.

Kang Daniel’s a start.

 

 

 

****

****

****

“That’s a beautiful ring Minhyun, but I’m pretty sure Seongwu meant for you to wear it on your left hand – not on your neck.” Sejeong’s lifting her right eyebrow, pretty black hair styled into old fashioned curls that leave her looking much like the princess she’s always been in the family.

This is what gives her the right to so capriciously say whatever the hell she wants to with no care for how it might make the two of them feel.  Pretty typical of the prodigal birthright heir of his ‘family’. “I’ve been trying to tell him that for the past three weeks. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“Hey  -“ Minhyun looks offended. As if he’s being attacked by his family, but Seongwu’s a bit disappointed that he didn’t expect it. They’ve always been a stuffy traditional bunch with more money exploding out of their pockets than they care to count and that ring on Minhyun's neck is worth more than the sparkly assortment of diamonds adorning Sejeong’s own neck. If anything – she's probably just jealous that Minhyun's wearing something worth more than her entire ensemble put together. “I just – I prefer feeling something else on my hands - “ Seongwu rolls his eyes because what kind of excuse is that –

Minhyun answers him by slipping his hand into his.

Jisung blows a spitball through a straw at them. “Go show off elsewhere, lovebirds.”

“You’re literally at our wedding- “ Seongwu growls as he pulls his hand out of Minhyun’s to whack his bitter old cousin’s arm. “Our affection is pretty much the headliner of the event-“

Jisung is drunk. Very Drunk. “Take it to the bedroom! Like all normal repressed couples in our modern day Korean society-“ Jisung looks like he’s about to throw up – oh wait – scratch that- now he is throwing up into his own cup.

God - his family may be rich - but they're certainly not classy.

“You know - Jisung may be drunk but he’s not wrong.” Minhyun must be even more drunk. “It’s not a bad idea for us to leave now - get some time together.” His newly announced husband's hands dance up his spine to wrap over his shoulders.

Oh.

Seongwu stops laughing and starts moving.

Instead, Minhyun’s the one who’s left laughing and the sight of it is so enrapturing that Seongwu feels blinded by the perfect white teeth in his mouth, the pale skin that glimmers in the light of the late afternoon sun, the lips that are tinted so perfectly red that Seongwu can't imagine ever feeling anything more perfect against his own mouth.

Seongwu promises he’ll make him laugh all night.

He almost succeeds.

When he's not laughing - Minhyun is saying his name over and over again, whispers creeping up his legs into his center through his ears and into his mind, a devilishly desirable tactic his husband has decided to employ to ensure Seongwu is all but pliant and pleading in his hands. 

And if that's why Minhyun's not laughing -

Then maybe Seongwu can live with it.

Happily ever after for the rest of his life sounds kind of nice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Fucking hell – Seongwu – there’s just chocolate wrappers all over this place.” That’s the point – if his house looks like garbage then no one will want to come over. “Please eat real food.” He obviously hadn’t planned for busy body Yoon Jisung who has braved dumps worse than his house and has immediately thrown countless Ghana and Pocky wrappers to the floor to take his seat beside Seongwu on the couch. “Can you eat something real please?” A tray of kimbap is shoved straight at his closed mouth. Like this packaged act of kindness is supposed to save him from himself.

He doesn’t even want saving. Shitty food from GS25 is not going to make him magically forget that Minhyun's taken everything from him and only left him with heartbreak.

“This is how you show me you’re concerned for my health?” Despite his response, Jisung rips open the plastic on the tray lifting one piece in the air threateningly.

“You will eat if it’s the last thing I do-“

“Fat chance.”

“What an overachieving dongsaeng – look now – let’s just get you back to your normal weight – no need to try to get fat –“

“Seriously Jisung – you can’t make me eat.”

For all of a second, Jisung looks sad. Which is rare. Jisung looks bitter, lonely, lovely – but he never looks sad. Not this sad.

And then in an instant that expression is gone because Jisung has lunged on top of his frame on the couch, pushing him back so the arm of the couch is digging into his back  with Jisung’s shoving –

His fingers into his mouth as three pieces of Kimbap are intent on making sure he chokes to death. “Eat you little bitch – you have us all overly worried – you’re the second oldest in the family and you’re acting like the most spoiled brat in the world –“

“IHATEYOU.”

“If your tongue has room to move-“ Honestly, why did he talk? “IT HAS ROOM FOR MORE KIMBAP.”

Shortly after that – the tray is discarded to the side because Seongwu has had to swallow 8 pieces of kimbap in two minutes which must be some kind of record.

And Jisung is sufficiently satisfied that he has both nourished his younger cousin's body and managed to not choke him to death. “Honestly Seongwu- is he worth this? You only knew him for a few months - did you honestly love him?”

“Just go, hyung. Just go.”

"Seongwu -"

"What would you know?" He throws back roughly. "No one's ever loved you." 

Jisung looks hurt. He has right to. "Get over yourself Ong Seongwu."

All too easily, Jisung leaves the premises of his Apgujeong-dong penthouse.

When he first got this place – for a long time – his clean and wonderful kitchen lay unused. There was always a party, or a benefit, or a friend’s house to crash for a meal –

But then he met Minhyun and his kitchen came to life.

His stomach growls.

Jisung should be proud.

These eight pieces of kimbap that have made their way down his stomach have opened the fountain of hunger that’s rested quiet in his belly. His bodily functions have been more understanding of the anguish he’s been forced through than his friends and family.

He hovels over to the kitchen, trying his best to avoid asking Minhyun where everything is.

It's not like he'd answer anyways - not from wherever he is now - millions of miles away.

 

 

 

 

 

“Fuck – Seongwu-“

Minhyun doesn’t swear.

At least not until he’s on the edge – one step off a cliff – just waiting for Seongwu to push him off –

So he does.

 

 

 

 

 

Kang Daniel is a bit of a weirdo.

He’s a nomad.

Someone who has lived on little to no income for the past five years. Moving from Seoul to Indonesia to Germany to Australia to Canada to Brazil and back to Seoul.

And he got hired at the chocolate shop.

So yeah – Kang Daniel is a weirdo with no real ambition, no education, no real personality –

It's a life Seongwu can't even fathom because money has always been so readily available to him in such large amounts that having to 'make do' sounds like it would be 'doo doo'.

He doesn't tell Daniel this joke -  because Daniel will not laugh or really understand it. Although he does laugh at everything - kind of like a child himself.

In all honesty, Seongwu doesn’t have the right to judge Daniel because Daniel is kind, he is patient, and he has a beautiful smile.

And that’s enough for now… especially since Daniel doesn’t judge him either. Which is nice.

“Are you okay?” It’s a fair question for Daniel to ask.

They have been having sex for the past five weeks.

Not that that means anything. Because sex is sex and five weeks is five weeks, and all that means is that whenever Daniel gets off work he has a place to come to where orgasms are on the menu. A combo value meal for both of them.

“I’m fine.” Seongwu smiles.

Or he tries to smile.

It’s supposed to work.

Maybe Daniel cares about him a bit more than Seongwu thought he did because Daniel’s eyes are hurt at the prospect that Seongwu would lie to him. “Is it something I’m doing?”

It’s not anything Daniel is doing. Specifically.

It just happens to be that Daniel is not Minhyun.

And that’s not something Daniel can change. It’s not even something that’s his fault.

Really – this is all exclusively Seongwu’s own fault.

He’s the one who pushed past his parents, went ahead and fell head over heels for a mirage of a human.

“You’re not fine Seongwu hyung – is it something I’m doing – you’re not in the mood?”

Daniel’s not supposed to be like the rest of them. Daniel’s not supposed to be a form of therapy. He’s supposed to be a way for him to hallucinate. Seongwu’s supposed to be able to close his eyes, reach for Daniel’s lips and forget that he’s under him.

But when Daniel’s looking at him like this – expressive large brown eyes peering into his own -

Then he's just made it incredibly difficult for Seongwu to pretend that it's Minhyun who is the one sleeping beside him instead. “Just tell me – is there something I can do –?”

“Do you have a poem you like?” Daniel looks confused because of course he looks confused. Seongwu’s just asked him a ridiculous question. “Forget I said anything-“

“No – no –“Daniel giggles. “You want to be swept off your feet? Such a romantic, hyung."

Seongwu snorts.

That’s not really what he wants and he's not really a romantic so much as a masochist but letting Daniel think that is more of a mercy to the other man than anything else. “Sure – but you’re going to have to make it a really good poem –“

“Let’s see – “

“I’m waiting –“

Daniel’s fingers come over his head, fingers combing through his hair and Seongwu feels his eyes close again because Daniel’s fingers are long like his. Daniel’s breath is hot against his ears, like his. Daniel’s voice is deep, like his – “Roses are red, violets are blue –“ This is an elementary school attempt at poetry but Seongwu was ready for that when he asked this question. “Ong Seongwu, my dick gets hard when I’m with you.”

His eyes fly open as Daniel cackles straight in his face.

Seongwu grabs the pillow out from under his head and hits Daniel on the side. “What the fuck was that?”

Daniel whips him onto his back. “Pure poetry?”

Seongwu rolls his eyes, still laughing.

Daniel rolls him over on his back and kisses him till he screams.

 

 

 

 

 

“This is my favourite part.” Seongwu pulls himself out of the heavy comforters on his frame, quickly climbing up the sides of Minhyun’s body until his head can collapse on his husband’s chest. “You’re welcome by the way you big lazy -”

Minhyun flicks his forehead. It barely hurts.

Not compared to his heart anyways.

That muscle always feels like it’s on the brink of exploding around Minhyun. “Do you want me to show my appreciation then?”

Sure, they’re married now but nothing has changed.

Not really.

Seongwu still feels like he’s here and Minhyun’s there. Somewhere. Swimming deep in a closet full of skeletons that’s so unlike the one Seongwu had pretended to live in for a very short period of time in his adult life. “I’m a pretty hard act to follow –“

“This is your favourite part, right?” He’s hesitant with his following nod because it’s not immediately clear where Minhyun will take his answer. “How about I show you my favourite parts?” He tilts his head humored.

If there’s one thing Ong Seongwu is down for – it’s flattery.  “Like?” He presses his lips to the inside of his husband’s wrist.

“This?” Minhyun’s fingers thread through his hair and Seongwu feels himself laughing at how foolish all of this is until Minhyun pulls a little and he’s all too compliant in shifting upwards, legs locking onto his husband’s hips as he sits up on him.

“Anything else?” He leans forward teasingly as Minhyun’s eyes latch onto the corner of his neck.

He’d expected it, but when he feels Minhyun’s lips trail a line of kisses up his nack, the nerves tingle all the way down to his legs, squeezing over Minhyun anyways, all too happy to feel him respond. “This too.”

“Final thoughts?”

“This.” Minhyun pulls back.

In light of everything they’d just shared – he feels cold now.

Until he sees where Minhyun’s hand is.

His left hand has taken ownership over the center of his ribcage.

Minhyun’s engagement ring that normally hangs on a necklace is on this hand. “This is my favourite part.”

Minhyun looks up at him and it’s strange – because he looks sorry.

And Seongwu’s thoughts run wild in his mind.

Why should he look sorry? Is it because he doesn’t wear the ring often? Is it because he’s done something? Is this okay? Are they okay? Will they be-

Minhyun pulls him to his mouth, lips shifting, coaxing, his mouth into relative compliance.

Seongwu remembers what his other favourite part is.

He laughs into Minhyun’s ears as his hands greedily lunge for Minhyun’s to push him back flat against the bed.

Minhyun doesn’t laugh back.

But he does kiss him again.

 

 

It’s 5 o’clock in the morning.

And by all measures, Daniel should have been out of here already but he’s not. “Why’d you ask me to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Recite poetry.”

The guilt hits him like a sucker punch to the stomach and he practically runs out of bed but Daniel grabs his hands and pulls him back down.

The sheets pool over them. “No reason.”

“No reason?” It’s no reason because they’re getting close.

It’s no reason because he doesn’t want to necessarily lose him.

Because Daniel keeps him a little grounded. Daniel keeps him a little safe. Daniel keeps him a little bit himself.

That’s his problem. It’s always been his problem.

You know - just for fucking once he’d like to not be so emotionally attached to someone – just for once – he’d like to fuck someone and get over it.

Just fucking once in his fucking life.

Daniel was supposed to be that.  “No reason.”

Daniel doesn’t look like he believes him.

That’s probably why he leaves.

 

 

 

 

 

 “Fix me a drink that puts me in the ground Mr.Bartender –“

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ong Seongwu.”

“Then don’t take so long to say I love you Hwang Minhyun.”

“You’re so needy – we’re married for god’s sake –“

“Yeah – but you haven’t said it in like three weeks – and I’m needy sometimes –“

“I love you Ong Seongwu.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Aren’t you supposed to say it back?”

“I love you – kon potatoes.”

“Get out of here before I throw a Yukon potato at your head.”

 

 

 

 

  

“1 part arsenic, 2 parts laundry detergent –“ Seongwu squints at the screen as he runs to the cupboard of cleaning supplies he has to the back of the room.

He never really uses any of them. Minhyun did. God, he doesn’t even know what detergent looks like –

But to do this convincingly – he kind of has to figure it out–

Why is everything such an exercise without him?

Thankfully, Minhyun’s attempt to organize the chaos that was his life has paid off because right in front of him (beside the fabric softener, the anti-static sheets, and something that could only be described as toy hedgehogs) is the laundry detergent.

So he grabs the oddly misshapen bottle, practically running off towards the kitchen.

He’s not a very good person.

It makes sense in the long run.

Why else would two people leave him in the space of half a year? God – he must be a vile piece of shit. His parents are probably responsible for that - or - he could just be born a piece of shit.

Maybe it’s a mix of both.

Ah right, mixing - back to the task at hand. If he mixes the ingredients to his special cocktail together – that would make sense, right? Easier to drink it all in one shot. Easier to pretend it’s just a glass of soju that’s really large-

God, this drink smells awful.

Honestly – how did kids eat detergent as some sort of viral challenge? It’s foul.

They’re probably not mixing it with arsenic -

He’s going to need to find another way to do this.

 

 

 

 

 

“What do you mean it’s declined?”

Minhyun loved the first ring so much that he thought another ring would be kind of nice. Nothing as fancy, just a simple band, something to show his devotion in a manner that Seongwu – just Seongwu – could afford without the Ong name behind him.

But that’s only possible if the card goes through.

“There aren’t many more ways I can say it sir –“ The boy with the sleep deprived eyes looks at him, a healthy dose of fear expressed on his face. “There’s an ATM machine-“

“I understand that the card’s not working but there must be some kind of mistake – my card doesn’t get declined – do you know who I am?” He shouldn’t be shrieking. The kid has done nothing wrong.

“I understand that – but without your card working – I cannot sell you this ring. No matter who you are – without this card – “ The words run dry on his mouth.

Right, without that name. He’s worthless.

He’d asked Minhyun if the other man wanted to change his name to ‘Ong’ jokingly. Minhyun had looked at him like he’d asked the most bizarre question in the world because they’d already been married for weeks by then.

He’d asked Minhyun if he could change his name to Hwang.

He hadn’t been joking then.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe if he uses the cocktail shaker –

But alas – this is also useless.

And now he has  more homemade poison ridden dishes in the sink. 

How does one wash poison ridden dishes? 

Minhyun would probably have known. 

Actually, who is he kidding? Minhyun would definitely know-

He makes a living off doing this to people like him. 

 

 

 

 

“Seongwu – by the time you see this message I’ll be gone. You’re a good guy Seongwu – one of the best. Don’t try to find me. Don’t try to make me apologize. Don’t try to chase after what we had because what we had Seongwu? It was good. But it wasn’t real. One day you'll meet someone - and they'll be great- and they'll make you happy and that day you'll forgive me. I’m sorry you had to find out this way but – thank you. ”

 

 

 

 

 

“ONG SEONGWU – ONG SEONGWU – OPEN UP – WE HAVE A WARRANT FOR YOUR ARREST –“

He jumps in the air, lifting a hand to his chest as he looks through the peephole to see a man with a large head, pale brown eyes, dressed in a suit –

Okay maybe he just has a large head from this peephole’s perspective. “ONG-SSI!” He jumps backwards this time, nearly stumbling into his Birch Lane Seneca Hall coat rack. “PLEASE OPEN UP. I AM A CERTIFIED OFFICER OF THE NATIONAL SAFETY GUARD-”

“National safety – ?” His mumble offers him no real context and the alien shaped man on the other end of the door is only getting more impatient. Plus, he's beginning to use his overly muscular arms to bang on the door repeatedly. Not a good sign.

Since the other man has some level of context on what the ‘ _National Safety Guard_ ’ is and why it wants to arrest him, he pulls open the door, waves of white bathrobe floating around him with the gust of fresh air that welcomes itself into his house. “Excuse me – why do you want to arrest me? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You smell bad. That’s crime enough.”

He did not open this door to be attacked like this.

So what if he hasn’t showered in the three weeks since Daniel left?

He's had no REASON to shower. Showering needs a REASON. Everyone knows that. It's one of the 7 laws of lazy people.

His own preoccupied thoughts do not stop the other man from shoving him aside in his own house as he invites himself in – quickly ducking in and out of rooms, darting to look behind furniture and curtains like he really has some kind of permission to do so. “Excuse me – but this is a gross invasion of my privacy-“

“No, a gross invasion of your privacy happened five seconds ago when your bathrobe flew away in the wind and showed the world that you're not only stinky - but you're also not wearing any underwear right now -“

Fuck. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

“Bit hard when _that’s_ a bit hard – ya know what I mean?“ At that the guy laughs, like he’s proud he made a great joke when really it's just a penis joke - and penis jokes are almost as bad as fart jokes and just a tiny bit better than stinky jokes. “Where is Hwang Minhyun?”

Seongwu freezes in the middle of knotting his bathrobe over his waist. “Who?”

“Hwang Minhyun.” His continued silence only serves to infuriate the other man. “HWANG. MINHYUN. Isn’t this you with him?” He whips out that picture – the one they took for Seoul Shinmun paper’s entertainment section. “Aren’t you the idiot who married him?! It is of utmost importance that you tell me where Hwang Minhyun is – Right. Now.”

“What?” What the fuck? Who is this guy to barge into his house? Rifle through his things? Interrupt the most private moment he’s had to himself – “Who the fuck are you? You come in here -”

“I told you.” He huffs, hands over his practically bursting chest in that white button down shirt of his. Does this man not know how to buy clothes in his shirt size? “I’m National Safety.”

“What the fuck is ‘national safety’? That’s not a real thing. Do you mean the National Intelligence Service?” The other man looks worried before he immediately grows gruff again, grunting noisily as he pulls out a badge purchased from a cheap knick knack store. He’s not convincing anyone that he’s part of any security service but he’s so desperate to know where Minhyun is that Seongwu feels a sense of pity come over him for the other man. “Minhyun left me. You’re a bit late.”

His response is obviously not what the other man was looking for.

The other man lets out an anguished cry so screechy that Seongwu’s ears almost start bleeding right there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, butt fucking fucker FUCK –“

“Yeah we did that quite a bit. He is my husband – after all – “ The stranger's gaze darkens as he scoffs shaking his head furiously like he’s trying to rid himself of the mental picture.

Which means he’s a fucking homophobe – great – Seongwu’s invited a homophobe into his home – or had one barge in – eitherways, not looking good.

Unfortunately as Seongwu is busy trying to determine how it is he gets rid of this fool – the stranger catches sight of the products on his Black Gold marble countertop. “Arsenic and detergent? You know you just need one or the other right?"

“What are you talking about?” He tries to laugh it off. “I was just trying to get out a tough stain –“

“Sure, buddy. Like we haven’t all been there-” Who the hell is he to call him ‘buddy’? They are not ‘ _buddies_ ’. They don’t even know each other and Seongwu should be throwing him out of the house but –

“What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.” The man responds rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks for your time- can’t believe you let him go. Fool.”

“Hey – hold on –“ Broadfigured as he is, the other man slices and dices through the stale air  in his house with ease, navigating what appears to be familiar territory – never falling prey to the stray pizza boxes, candy wrappers and dirty laundry that decorates the perfect cherry red wood of his floor.  “Hold on- I’M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU HERE.”

“What?” The other man groans. “I don’t have time to give you therapy for this shit dude – but it gets better okay? Don’t base your self-worth on some piece of shit who stole all your money and dignity and pride.” That was actually kind of nice. Even coming from this weird dude with his fake security badge. In its own messed up way. “Now – shut the fuck up. I need to find Hwang Minhyun.”

“For national safety?” Seongwu’s being sarcastic and this time the other man has caught on to his sarcasm shrugging his palm off. “I should come – I’m his husband – if anyone needs to find him, it’s me.”

“You? Aren’t you like some rich family’s little prince?” That’s not fair. He’s discounting him without even knowing him. He can hold his own on the streets. “You should stay here and try not to hurt yourself. Leave getting Hwang Minhyun to settle down to the real guys-”

Wait –

WHAT? “You’re his husband too, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You’re not really National Intelligence –“ The other man flushes red.

“I am too! Do you think regular people have bodies like this? Do you know how much time it took to bulk to this level?” He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care either.

“No you’re not ‘National Intelligence’ – you’re just some sucker like me!” Somehow the knowledge that someone else has been hurt by Minhyun the same way he has – and that this person has wandered straight into his apartment is more comforting than anything else in the world. “What’s your name, dude?”

Somehow, it’s own twisted way, this is closure, seeing this bulky idiot bark around his house like a Rottweiler. “I’m not a sucker – fuck that guy. FUCK THAT INSOLENT LITTLE BITCH-“ Seongwu punches him and for someone whose supposed to be strong and built like a brickhouse, the other man crumbles to the floor instantly.

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s my husband.” Seongwu leaps over the other man to stop him from running away.

“You’re fucking crazy-“ He’s grunting under his hands, writhing and grinding on the floor in a manner that’s utterly useless.

It's kind of nice - but his usual way of doing things is to ask for names before he gets into a position like this with guys. 

“Who are you?” He barks, feeling the other guy jump in shock below him.

“What?!”

“Name, idiot husband #2.”

“FUCK YOU ASSHOLE. You’re idiot husband #2 – I was married to him before you were-“ Seongwu slaps his head down to the floor because he still hates the thought that someone else was with Minhyun with him before at all, let alone another husband. He doesn't even really know how to process 'that' part of the information. “Dongho.”

“What?”

“KANG. DONG. HO.”

“Kang Dongho?”

“Kang Dongho is my name you fucking idiot – do you want it tattooed on your head so you don’t forget it?!”

“Kang Dongho – you and I are going to have a lot of fun –“

“And why is that?”

“Because we’re going to find him. We’re going to find Minhyun. The man who took all our money and ran – let’s find him and bring that motherfucker down. What do you say?” 

But in his excitement at having found a compatriot, he’s let down his guard and vulnerable as he is - Dongho is still strong.

In seconds, Dongho flips their positions so Seongwu’s the one kissing the ground with Dongho’s hands gripping his hair and, sure, it’s painful but Seongwu’s laughing all the same because at least it’s something that doesn’t let him pretend. “Don’t call him that remember? He’s our husband.” He deserves that mocking tone of voice. “Fuck - I didn’t know Minhyun was into crazies.”

“And I didn’t know Minhyun liked buff stupid guys so –“ This is probably going to suck.

Kang Dongho is pretty much the human equivalent of brain poison, even dumber than Daniel, and everything Seongwu would usually hate – but –

If working with Dongho gives him the chance to look at Minhyun and ask him why-

That’s worth a shot.

For Hwang Minhyun?

Anything’s worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that you're done reading :) I can finally spoil what I was trying to do ? I was trying to use non-linear narrative here. I do it a lot in Collide pretty successfully but I wanted to shove it all into a one-shot and not use formatting as a crutch and see if it came across - hopefully it did.
> 
> Thank you all for your support on Laundry <3 I hope Minhyun helps you all with your Laundry in a PG way.


	4. Oh, Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi wants to break up.
> 
> Jinyoung wants to keep the dog.

**Oh, Look**

 

 

“And you – Lee Daehwi – think you’re mature enough to keep the fucking dog? You get him sick any time you're alone with him!”

“You were the one who left for AGES!”

The nerve on this little piece of shit.

When Tan spent one, JUST ONE, weekend alone with Daehwi, Jinyoung had to come home to a red and blistered butt rash on the little thing.

Meanwhile, Lee Daehwi had been found crying on the couch, complaining of how he couldn’t wipe their ‘child’ down alone.

“I did not leave you for ages! I had to go meet my big sister’s fiancé!”

Daehwi claps his hands together before using one to point accusingly at him. “An event that I was never invited to. Oh but – why should I be invited? It’s not like you’ve bothered to introduce me to your parents as your boyfriend- we’re just ‘roommates’ who occasionally suck each other’s faces right?“

Jinyoung feels his jaw drop as he shakes his head. “Daehwi – I know you don’t know this but we’re in our 20s. They already know we’re friends so why the hell do they need to know we’re more? We’re not getting married to each OTHER.”

“EVIDENTLY. We’re in the middle of a break up or did you not notice that I’ve packed your shit and kept it by the door?” At that, Daehwi skips over to the door like he’s running to get ice cream instead of trying to kick out the man he’s spent the last three years of his life with. “I forget – I mean – you are the newly elected student union president. I mean, you’d think all of Konkuk University wouldn’t elect an idiot but I don’t think you’ve realized that you’re overstaying your welcome here? Poor thing - should I demonstrate how the door works again?”

“Fuck you, Daehwi. You know how hard it’s been for me with that position. I said I’d fix a lot of things for the student body here, okay? I can’t just not make good on my promise.” Daehwi is a lot of things. Daehwi is charismatic, beautiful, skinny like a twig and strong like steel – but he’s also manipulative and Tan? Tan’s just one more of Daehwi’s manipulative tactics – he never loved the dog. “You want me to leave? Fine. I’ll leave but I’m not leaving without Tan.”

“Why not?” Daehwi’s eyes grow large, the pure white of his eyes framing dark brown irises – large, round, deep enough to house a pain that’s more than just surface level tantrum. It’s his usual cue to look away but today, since he has nothing to fear in Daehwi’s gaze, he holds onto it strong. “I understand you have a lot of things to fix for a lot of people that you don’t actually care about – but you’re breaking us. You have no problem leaving me all alone here all the time. Just get out Bae Jinyoung. Tan will be happier with someone who actually spends time with him –“

“OH MY FUCKING GOD – YOU DON’T EVEN LOVE HIM.” He marches into their bedroom.

This isn’t the first time Daehwi’s used Tan. Hell, Tan’s entire raison-d’être is so Daehwi can use him. The whole reason Jinyoung even has Tan is because Daehwi used him as a gift. Tan started as an excuse to buy Jinyoung’s time when they first started this relationship.

Three years ago, when a freshman Daehwi sauntered up to his sophomore small face, sat down beside him, and kissed him right on the bleachers in front of everyone else –  Jinyoung thought he knew what he was getting into.

After all, these three years have only been a part of their story. Much before those three years, Daehwi was a friend. Someone he held in high regard in his mind and held close to his heart.

But now – Daehwi is more – he is so so much more.

And Jinyoung knows he hasn’t handled it well. He knows he makes an all too obvious effort of infantilizing their relationship, whitewashing regularity over what should be more but –

Shouldn’t Daehwi get it?

Shouldn’t Daehwi understand that he’s just – not that comfortable with that part of himself?

It doesn’t have anything to do with him – Jinyoung knows he’s the problem here – but even so shouldn’t Daehwi see that? Does Daehwi really have to push him so much when all he wants is to deal with this in his own time?

Sure, three years is a long time. Jinyoung knows Daehwi is patient and even the most enlightened of human beings would find their patience has worn thin after three years –

But three years is not long enough.

How can it ever be?

His parents have raised him from the ground up for so so much longer.

Is it that hard for Daehwi to understand that Jinyoung’s not ready to hurt that relationship of his even at the risk of hurting this one? No matter how much it means to him?

“TAN! Come here boy! Come on!” Tan looks up at him from his chew toy – head tilted to the side like he’s trying to determine what it is that’s making his master’s voice sound _oh so_ shaky.

Expecting any complex range of emotions from Tan would be unreasonable. Tan is, after all, nothing more than the cutest dog in the world and – at Jinyoung’s call – he runs straight into his arms.

“Good boy!” To show his appreciation, Jinyoung scratches Tan right between his brows and Tan slacks into his grip, growling low little sounds of pleasure. “Papa’s going to take good care of you Tan-ah-“

He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous.

Daehwi’s already pulled Tan straight out of his arms.

“No, he will not, will he Tannie?” Tan, the piece of shit that he is, has already chosen to yap away as Daehwi throws him into the air and catches him right back down, nuzzling his nose into his face. “No, he won’t! Tannie and Hwihwi are going to have so much fun living ALONE together –“

This is too much.

Daehwi doesn’t even like the fucking dog. “Why are you being such a little bitch about this? Tan’s my dog!”

“Excuse me?!” Now Daehwi’s mocking him, mouth perfectly parted in a look of shock that looks a shade too fake. Daehwi places a hand on his temples, eyes never not squinting when they look at the other person in this room because today? Bae Jinyoung’s the cause of the biggest headache Lee Daehwi’s ever had. “You are well aware that I gave you Tan, right? I paid for him – Tan is my dog.”

“Daehwi – you bought Tan for me because you wanted us to be more serious and live together. Tan was just the coolest way you could think of to get me to do the asking first instead of you –“

“Hey, I thought of other ways. You were just slow with moving them forward – Tan was a last resort.” Daehwi trails off, eyes cast down his torso before they’re back up on his face. “Anyways – Tan was an easy way to get you to spend lots of time with me long term.”

“I would have asked you - eventually.” Daehwi rolls his eyes. “You didn’t have to get me a dog.”

“GREAT! So we agree – Tan is mine?” Jinyoung groans, turning his head to the white plaster wall of their shared off-campus shithole. “Oh, don’t look so sad just because Tannie likes me better.”

He scoffs.

Right, like Tan likes any one of them better. Tan just likes the one who’s willing to feed him. “Let’s get one thing straight.” Jinyoung marches forward, face leaned into Daehwi’s.

“What’s that?”

“Tan doesn’t like either of us.” Their close proximity does nothing to shake Daehwi to his core. In fact, Daehwi doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash in his direction.

He’s beautiful too.

He’s not trying to be arrogant or anything – those words came from Daehwi. His boyfriend has dedicated scrolls upon scrolls of poetry to him. It’s because of those very words that people know him – it’s because of those words people trust him. It’s because of Daehwi’s love for him that he even got elected.

The words Bae Jinyoung no longer just mean Bae Jinyoung.

No – Bae Jinyoung is just a sound. Nothing more than a collection of syllables used to describe the miracle from the Korean genetic pool that is going to save their school.

Bae Jinyoung is handsome, nice, tall and righteous. He’s now the natural born stubborn leader of the free education movement at Konkuk University - and that's just the start.

His life, the way it is right now, is also a gift that Daehwi’s given him. The only problem is, unlike Tan, Daehwi regrets giving him this particular gift.

In the past, no one who mattered heard Bae Jinyoung's cries as he whined, pushed, protested all by his lonesome for a more just education system in their country.

But Daehwi? Everyone in the world loved listening to him. After all, Daehwi’s voice is the kind that sifts over and under your arms, lifts you up to kiss the clouds and leaves you feeling breathless and lightened beyond measure –

At least that’s how Jinyoung feels around him.

And Daehwi is proud. Daehwi wears his labels like pins of pride on his chest.

Daehwi wears him too. His boyfriend performs like someone who's tasted fame, fortune and fight but more often than not facets of his performance are carefully manufactured with the influence of their relationship in his mind.

So when people realized that Daehwi was singing about him – they gave him and his cause a second look before asking Daehwi all too politely to share.

Maybe that’s why now, when Daehwi looks up at this face that he’s told the world he loves so so much -– his expression of indifference doesn’t slip.

Daehwi stays perfectly still – bright smile, whiter teeth, eyes just as sparkly as he looks into Tan’s small face like it’s the only small face in the world that’s ever mattered to him. “Tan’s smart, then, to not like either of us. We’re idiots.” Daehwi presses a kiss straight on Tan’s nose, love and affection dripping with the smallest of pleased voices when Tan decides to express his love back with the littlest of licks.

Jinyoung hates this all over again. He hates all of this. Why can’t Daehwi understand him? Why? Why? Why? “Why do you always get to make unreasonable demands?”

Daehwi’s smile stays affixed on his face. “Because I’ve made reasonable ones that you’ve blatantly ignored. Asking you to leave? That’s not one you can ignore as easily.”

Jinyoung can only groan as he sits down on their bed, head in his hands. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course, you don’t. You’re not the one who’s begging for just a moment with you.” Daehwi clears his throat, head facing his feet before he looks back at Tan, the expression of giving up blossoming on his face. “He is.”

“Daehwi –“

“Jinyoung, why should Tan have to suffer living with you like I do?” When Jinyoung looks up at the accusation, he’s both relieved and scared that Daehwi’s looking at him with the full force of whatever the other boy’s  kept satcheled away inside of him. “Why does he have to wait for you at all?”

“Daehwi -“

“No – Tan has other people who love him. Tan has other people who would DIE to be with him.” Daehwi miffs, nose in the air as he sniffles and Jinyoung feels a smile build on his face. “How can you smile when you should be repenting for the fact that you don’t love Tan the way you should?”

“I don’t?” His blind response makes the Adam’s apple in Daehwi’s throat bob, knots of tension bubbling in the cauldron of heat between them. “I have dreams, Daehwi. Dreams that don’t always involve Tan. I can’t spend every waking moment I have with Tan-”

Daehwi snarls, and like he’s on cue, Tan does too. “Excuses. You’re really made of them.”

“Drama.” He mimics. “You’re full of it.”

For all of a second, Daehwi looks hurt.

Then he looks like he’s going to commit full force to what Jinyoung’s expecting of him.

He gives him the dog. “Take him.”

“What?” The sheer thought that Daehwi’s given up on this fight is more than enough to make Jinyoung put Tan down on the ground and chase behind Daehwi’s departing figure. “Daehwi – stop.” He places a hand on Daehwi’s shoulder but his now ex-boyfriend shoves his hand off. “Daehwi – stop.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been that before.”

“And I’m sure I’ll be it again because nothing I do makes you happy.” Jinyoung curls his lips between his teeth. “What am I supposed to do?”

He almost wishes he never said anything at all because Daehwi’s eyes now glimmer with water, brimmed to his tear line. “Want to try caring a little, Jinyoung?”

“I care.” He blurts out, quick as he can. Daehwi laughs like Jinyoung’s just said some hilarious joke but he’s not fooling around – he means it. Can’t Daehwi see that? “Daehwi – I care. About you.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Daehwi pulls his head into his hands, face completely shrouded now from his view.

Daehwi is beautiful. Daehwi is charismatic. Daehwi is manipulative and charming and everything else Jinyoung is in love with.

Jinyoung’s never told him any of that – but surely Daehwi knows?

Jinyoung’s only seen a few instances of his best friend like this.

The first time he saw Daehwi cry into his hands like he’s begging for a curtain to be pulled around him is when his relationship with that older guy ended.

The second time was when Daehwi’s mom called him to come home right away –

The third time is now. Jinyoung’s the one who has hurt him beyond measure. “Do you know why I fell in love with you, Jinyoung?”

“You have a reason?” He mumbles, a little more than ashamed as he looks to his feet.

Daehwi laughs. “Of course. I’ve known you for years Jinyoung – I made the choice to love you.”

For him, it hadn’t been like that. For him, Daehwi had taken him up by storm and left him no choice.

Not that he’d minded – if he'd been left to his own devices – he would have never been with anyone at all.

And Daehwi is everything he wants. He’s comfort and care and taunt and petty. The perfect balance to everything he is not.

When his world lies grey, flat and lifeless – Daehwi’s the one who paints colour into its cracks. “What does that choice sound like?”

Daehwi snickers, wiping at his eyes. “Oh look – there’s Bae Jinyoung the idiot who's supposed to show me around school.”

He remembers that.

He’d met Daehwi on the other boy’s first day at St.Michael’s Catholic School for Well Behaved Boys. He wasn’t even the one who was supposed to show him around but Lee Euiwoong had fallen sick with the stomach flu. So the responsibility had fallen on his shoulders as the leader of the orientation committee and he took to it with fervor – trying his best to communicate his enthusiasm for his surroundings to the new boy.

His enthusiasm hadn’t quite worked. Daehwi’d been quiet, bookish, and extremely shy.

Shy was an emotion he was not unfamiliar with and so in a moment’s decision – he asked the other boy to eat lunch with him.

That was the only time Daehwi smiled at him that day.

Jinyoung hadn’t even cared so much about what it was that he was offering Daehwi – the action was done more on a whim than out of any real kindness towards the new stranger in their social ecosystem.

All Jinyoung had known back then was that there was a part of him that was screaming at him to watch out for the other boy – make sure he didn’t get ostracized or hurt by the reality that not many well behaved boys really went to St.Michael’s Catholic School.

“Any other thoughts?”

“Oh look there’s Bae Jinyoung –  I’m glad we’re going to the same university together. Maybe this time I’ll show him around.” Daehwi lifts his head towards the window, eyes gazing out at the branches by their apartment. “Oh look – there’s Bae Jinyoung in his grey hoodie – man only Bae Jinyoung could make a shitty grey hoodie from Fashion Street look like it’s from Chanel –“ Daehwi groans again, fingers twisting into his shirt. “Oh look – there’s Bae Jinyoung. You know he’s pretty funny when he’s not screaming at people to listen to his deep, dark, mystical conspiracy theories. Oh look – there’s Bae Jinyoung – even if he is overly political and whiny – he could make a pretty good boyfriend – Oh look – there’s Bae Jinyoung and I’m in –“

He kisses Daehwi before he says anything else.

Mostly because Daehwi’s already crying again and that sound mixed with the echo of his words only leaves Jinyoung with the option to kiss him silent.

He pulls him off just as quickly as Daehwi lets out a breath, shaking his head. “Why’d you do that?”

He steadies his heart as he looks up at Daehwi, voice thick and choked. He really doesn't know. Daehwi really doesn't know.

“Oh look – there’s Lee Daehwi. He thinks he’s the only one who’s in love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ran out of me like word vomit on steroids.
> 
> I blame the flufftastic fluffy picture that is Daehwi with Tan. [look at the fluffy](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DefOLBHVQAAH-tW.jpg)


	5. Big Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongho lost his chance.
> 
> Gunhee just wants his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY DID I WRITE THIS? WHY? THERE IS NO REASON FOR THIS FIC TO EXIST. 
> 
> (actually there is - I will explain more at the end - KAY FOR ALL YOU PEOPLE WHO DON'T NEED THIS - enjoy <3)

He would NEVER EVER tell anyone this.

But  since the all too titular (in more ways than one) Kang Dongho walked into Produce 101’s training studio with a scowl on his face and a crisply ironed shirt that was unbuttoned to just the perfect amount of inappropriate appropriate degree (two buttons busting at the chest for reference) –

Well –

Since then, Lee Gunhee had – on occasion – ESPECIALLY during the Produce101 induced dick drought of 2017 – made Kang Dongho the object of his questionable dreams.

Not that it mattered to Dongho, or the staff or his labelmates.

Although, one time on break Hwanwoong had heard him mumbling Dongho’s name under the covers and NEVER let him forget about it.

But today – he’s going to bring his balls up to his chest and sing Hallelujah because if this finale night is going to be the last chance for him to make some sort of move on the guy now that they no longer had to worry about the rules of Produce 101 – then – picking himself up and seating said balls in Minhyun’s absent spot is exactly what the doctor ordered.

“HI!”

Dongho turns to look at him, surprised that Gunhee has decided to come talk to him of all people.

Sure - the two of them have exchanged a lot in the safe secure perverted space that is his mind but here? Out in the real world? He’s maybe spoken a grand total of fifteen words to Dongho on the topic of why Choi Minki has such a long bathroom routine in the morning - “Gunhee! Nice to see you again.”

AH – HA – HA –

He responded!

This is a measure of success, for sure!

The only problem is now that Dongho’s actually said something to him that doesn’t involve some sort of opening to conversation – Gunhee’s not sure what to do because this is as far his plan goes.

For some reason, his silence has not distanced the other man – instead Dongho laughs as jovially as a loser of Produce 101 can and brings his arms over his shoulders.

Which thereby causes his miracle of a jawbone (his doctor’s words – NOT his) to drop fifteen thousand feet to the molten lava core of the earth because –

Dongho is just that – temperature heavy **_hot_**.

And sure – Dongho’s always been hot but even in his dreams Gunhee didn’t imagine hugging a literal furnace. “Wow – uh – I’m trying to put this politely but –Dongho, you’re really sweaty. Are you feeling okay?” 

Bashful embarrassment or frustration from the finale kisses the inside of Dongho’s pale cheeks. “Ah – it’s nothing. I think the lighting messed me up. You know how it can be.” He doesn’t. None of the lights at Produce101 have made him a living bonfire who wants nothing more than to burn down everything in his path. “Honestly, Gunhee – I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

Gunhee knows he’s lying. Dongho’s not fine and he doesn’t care about how Lee Gunhee, perfect stranger, is feeling. For god’s sake – there’s an anime sweat drop rolling down the smooth planes of his long and beautiful forehead.

Still, even if he knows how Dongho’s really feeling – Gunhee can’t call him out on it. Dongho’s a sunbae again.  “I’ve had a few days to make my peace with the end as it stands for me. How are you?”

“I’m okay. It’s the other guys I’m worried about.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about Minhyun –“

“He’s the one we worry most about - ”

“NO! Really?” He mocks, with golf ball sized eyes and Cheshire Cat smiles.

It works. Dongho’s laughing again – and what a beautiful laugh it is. “You really are the man with a million faces, huh, Lee Gunhee?”

Gunhee waves a hand in the air. “Is that what the internet is calling me these days?”

Dongho points at his own smile. “I have one default setting.”

Hey man, if that was his default setting – he wouldn’t be complaining. “Not to correct you sunbae-nim but for the longest time you had this default setting.” He makes a show of gruffing his eyebrows up and snarling right into Dongho’s face.

This serves to make the other man giggle. “I didn’t look that bad-“

“Hey!” He pouts. “Are you saying I look bad?” When he doesn’t get an immediate response from his partner, his eyes follow the trail of Dongho’s gaze to see he’s lost Dongho to the sight of one Lee Daehwi fixing another Bae Jinyoung’s hair. “Ah! You worked with Daehwi right? During the vocal stage?”

“And Super Hot.”

“Right, of course.”

Dongho looks at his hands like he’s looking for the ghost of something. “Does your company have plans for you guys?”

“I don’t ever know what’s going on up there.” He scoffs. “Sometimes – I think debuting isn’t everything and it’s just nice to have somewhere to sing with a nice sunbae like Solar sunbae–”

“You’re really lucky at RBW. Mamamoo are the full package.” He’s doing his best to look like this is no big deal but he’s quite proud of RBW. “If Solar’s busy, you could sing at the subway stops too –“

“I tried that once!” He snickers. “Seoul Police told me to stop because I was scaring people with the size of my mouth.” Dongho sputters out laughs again. They’re littler bursts this time, like a carefully timed fountain of joy. “What are you guys going to get up to while Minhyun’s away?”

“Ah – still got to figure that out. Contract renewals are next year – so we probably have till then to disband – “

“Don’t say that!” His shriek is too emphatic as the others in the room turn to look at them. “I can’t imagine that’s something that actually happens.” For a second, it’s awkward because he sees Dongho’s face twist, uncomfortable and practiced.

Until, finally the other man finds a smile to pull up from the recesses of expressions his agency must have trained into him. This one is a little too perfect. “Thank you, Gunhee.”

Huh? There’s nothing to thank him for - “For stating the obvious?” 

“No, not for that. Minki was right about you. You’re a kind person.” He stands quickly to his feet. “I’m thankful you said anything at all when you had no reason to.”

Gunhee stares up at him, mouth parted open.

In all the universes that make sense, he responds to this wonderfully crafted statement with a wonderfully crafted statement of his own.

But before the words can make their way out of his mouth – Dongho surprises him by tilting his body forward in a bow that’s not too deep but not too shallow. It’s just significant enough for the few trainees around them to look in marvel and fascination.

The 101 Punch King has graced him with a gift that’s dearer than anything else Gunhee had thought he’d get when he walked over here.

It’s recognition. Of some sort.

He feels himself flush before he starts to fluster up –“No, no – please –“ He makes a move to lift Dongho’s shoulders up but he only bows his head again. “Please –“

When he steps backwards this time – Gunhee catches sight of something else there that he hadn’t quite expected to see. “You’re going to do really well Gunhee.”

Dongho looks like he’s given up.

How can he look like that? There are millions who put their votes in for  him and the rest of Nu’est – surely they won’t not make it –

By the time he finds it in himself to fuck all the rules and just ask Dongho if he’s okay – the other man has marched off to where Jisung’s crying with his arms over Minki’s shoulders –

But he can’t think anymore because wiry little fingers have covered his eyes until he quickly pulls them off and smiles to a very sparkly Lee Daehwi. “HYUNG! You didn’t wish me yet!”

He scrunches his nose up. “You poop pranking brat –“

“Hyung – hyung that wasn’t me I swear! But can I ask you something?” Daehwi blurts out as he looks back to where Dongho and Minki are laughing together. “What did you talk to Dongho hyung about?”

Like any self-serving drama on television – there were always rumors of what happened offset, off camera and away from mics on Produce101 –

He should take this question with just a grain of salt though. Rumors of a certain nature should stay rumors. “It was nothing Daehwi. Just – reassuring Dongho.”

For a second, Daehwi’s frame stiffens but in another second he’s laughing over himself. “That’s a **_tall_** order, hyung. He likes to wallow. It’s his style.”

“Daehwi –“

“Which face of his was it?” Daehwi mimics the same thing he’d done, a gruff and low scowl followed by an insecure, worried expression that ends off with an eye crinkled grin that looks so eerily like Dongho that it makes Gunhee confused for all of a second.

“Don’t make fun of him, Daehwi.” Gunhee lets out a breath. “He’s in a difficult position now. Try to understand.”

He means it kindly but Daehwi’s crinkled smile dims to a more guarded version of itself. “That’s all I ever do.”

“Huh?”

“Understand Kang Dongho – it’s all I’m ever trying to do.” Daehwi bows his head with an expression that once again irks Gunhee in how similar it looks to Dongho’s.

It’s none of his business – he knows that.

Don’t look, don’t guess, don’t ask –

But Daehwi looks like he’s given up too.

On Dongho, the expression made sense. The object of his desire had just lost the game and lost his career and lost so much more –

But on Daehwi – who won the world and so much more –

It makes no sense whatsoever.

“Daehwi –“

Sensing his disturbance, Daehwi wipes his face clean – a chalkboard wiped startlingly clean. “Good luck, hyung. Can’t wait to stream our new ballad king once he comes out with a single!”

The swerving direction of this conversation has left him with whiplash but he isn’t able to pull Daehwi back to make sense of it because in seconds the younger boy flitters to the new focus of his attentions – one very pretty Jeon Somi.

Hwanwoong settles in beside him, lollipop thrown his way. “Whatchu looking at?”

He lets out a breath, confused as Dongho disappears from the room and for a second, just for a second, he catches Daehwi’s eyes hitch at the frame before they’re back on Somi. “I think – a broken dream.”

Hwanwoong snorts, hitting his shoulder. “Gunhee – too existential.”

“What can I say – there’s big thoughts in this big mouth of mine –”

“There’s big drama in that big mouth of yours – ”

“But you like me anyways?”

“Correction – I am accepting applications for my main ship. However, for now I’m stuck with you so – yeah, I guess love you anyways.” Hwanwoong pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. “Glad you picked up the guts to go get rejected by Kang Dongho.” When he bursts out laughing, Hwanwoong chuckles right along. “Glad you still got your senses about you! You don’t look crazy at all, Lee Gunhee-ssi -”

Before he says another stupid word, Gunhee pulls his lips to Hwanwoong’s forehead. “Let’s debut soon Yeo Hwanwoong.”

“Let’s debut soon Lee Gunhee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah - I'm on a s/h but for fun I was watching the finale again to confirm my assessment of next chap of LI is correct and I was watching that scene - you know the one - where BoA announces Dongho's name as 13?
> 
> And literally right after GUNHEE'S FACE - lmfao. 
> 
> So yeah. Uh - I wrote this? Instead of writing LI - hahhaha. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Don't hate me guys - I'm dying rn still BUT BUT my boss was not in the office today so I got to have a little break *dances*) 
> 
> Plus radishface and raihaqyaza did a good job of feeding the donghwi tag recently so I thought I'd do my best to contribute as well <3


	6. Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi wants to live together.
> 
> Jinyoung doesn’t know to ask.
> 
> An **Oh, Look** prequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact that I met a puppy who just - wouldn’t - shit (Oh, Look was literally never planned to have a follow-up and yet here we are..)

“Okay - Tan-ah, when Daehwi says go - we go -“

Tan looks up at him, head cocked off to his right like he isn’t able to understand why Daehwi’s spent most of his night trying to illustrate what it looks like when he’s on his fours and squatted upwards with his butt in the air.

All he wants is for the stupid dog to take a shit. Just one - little - shit. Is that so hard?

Actually - he gets it. It is hard. If someone put a gun to his head and asked him to shit on the spot he also would have a difficult time producing said waste matter. But - he doesn’t have a gun to Tan’s head and this is like one of the only responsibilities the tiny little annoyance has. 

Eat. Sleep. Poop. Repeat. It really can’t be that hard to be a dog.

He’s been doing it all night - well that or yoga if this downward dog type pose counts. “We shit, Tan. We shit.” 

Tan sneezes, adorable little eyes scrunched into his nose until he barks his yappy little bark and wafts off towards Jinyoung’s bed. 

This is his fault. He’s the one who bought Tan for Jinyoung - he’s the one who wanted Jinyoung to take them a little seriously and he’s the one who wanted Tan to be like their child because he’d romanticized puppy parenting.

He collapses on the floor to look up at the ceiling of Jinyoung’s bedroom with a sigh that’s a little less than enthused.

Jinyoung’s taken to it really well - which is great because it’s just more of a turn on when Jinyoung walks over to play with Tan or has snap stories featuring that pose where the puppy’s just on his chest letting out soft breaths as they both sleep.

He’d just thought the logical step would be for Jinyoung to ask him to come live with him. It’s been a year or so of them dating, they’re both living off-campus with their friends so their living situations are flexible enough for them to make co-habitation a reality and not a dream. 

But Jinyoung’s a duncehead who’s very rarely able to see what’s right in front of him. It’s one of his most endearing and stupid qualities.

Because all Daehwi had wanted was for Jinyoung to think - ‘Oh, look - maybe it makes sense Daehwi for the two of us to live together for the foreseeable future because I think I really love you and you bought me a child from another species - let’s raise it together **_together_ **!’

But did he get that?

THE NUMBER ONE ANSWER ON THE BOARD SAYS…

No. 

Because Jinyoung only sees him as a part of the bigger picture - and he’d like to be whole damn thing.

A twist of the door knob alerts him that someone’s entering the room and the laugh that follows that sound confirms it’s his boyfriend.

He turns over to his side so Jinyoung can’t see his face. He’s a failure of a puppy parent and a failure of a boyfriend/maybe more. It probably explains why the slash between boyfriend and maybe is still there.

“Yeah, yeah Haknyeon - let’s see if you’re that confident at tomorrow’s volleyball game, huh?” Upon entering his room, Jinyoung takes a deep breath. Probably admiring his newly renovated room that includes a good helping of bad atmosphere because of Daehwi’s mood that he - cannot - get - this - dog - to - shit. (His bad mood has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he cannot get Jinyoung to see him as more than he is. He’s over that. Boys like him who walk around being literal public hazards and causing sexual awakenings for otherwise straight men do not spend time thinking about how their own boyfriends do not give a shit about them - they just don’t -) “Uh, oh - “ Daehwi resists the urge to roll his eyes because Jinyoung’s tone is teasing and full of meaning and he’s not in the mood to decipher the grand joke that is his life. “What happened here?” 

He doesn’t respond. Why should he? Jinyoung left him all alone with silence so let him come home to the same thing.

Yes, he’s being immature - yes, Jinyoung should be allowed to go out and do whatever he wants but is it so bad that all Daehwi wants is to possess his heart, mind, body and soul till there’s not a shred of Jinyoung that isn’t his?

This unreasonable desire of his makes no sense to him. Really. He’s known Jinyoung for years and never before has he felt this innately frustrated by the fact that he is not the sole focus of someone’s attentions.

Perhaps because in the past - it just always ended up being that he was pampered, cared for and never lacked for affection.

Not that Jinyoung doesn’t give him affection - he does. But they’re friends first and everything else second so -

Sometimes it feels like they never really graduated from one status to the next at all. “Someone had a rough time with Tan?” His half-hearted shrug of a response garners him another chuckle as he feels the temperature of the air beside him shift as Jinyoung lies down beside him. 

That makes him turn over, head on his elbow as he glares at his boyfriend. “Why are you on the floor?”

Jinyoung’s eyes drop, his mouth widens and his face puts on a comical laugh that makes Daehwi want to punch it. “Why? Am I not allowed to have an existential crisis at the same time as you?” If he was a dragon, Jinyoung would have been burnt to bits by how much he was huffing and puffing. “Pity, I thought it’d be a nice bonding exercise.” 

“Yeah - yeah - we both know how much you like bonding -“

“Daehwi - I thought you said you’d only bring that up when-“ Daehwi kicks him in his legs just to get him to stop talking but Jinyoung only uses the action to latch his legs over and climb on top of him, hands planked at either side of his face. 

This is great - this is exactly what he wants - when it comes after the question - _‘Lee Daehwi, will you live with me for the rest of my life because I know you feel the same way about me and I feel that way about you and let’s just be together forever because unicorns and candy.’_

But he knows that’s wishful thinking. Everything he thinks is wishful thinking - everything he wants from Jinyoung is nothing more than - “What is Lee Daehwi thinking about?” He licks his lips, all too happy to feel Jinyoung’s eyes drop from their intent on teasing him to another feeling that’s more insistent and in-line with what he’s drowning in. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He licks his lips again, all too impetuously with a smile that stretches the length of an elephant’s trunk as Jinyoung groans above him. “Seriously, Jinyoung - what are you on? I’m not doing anything.” He twists his lower lip into his mouth as Jinyoung narrows his eyes at him shaking his head. “You should get your head checked out - I think you’re hallucinating -“

“If you don’t stop that - I’ll kiss you.”

“What. A. Threat.” Jinyoung’s eyebrows twitch.

Daehwi licks his lips again. “I’m serious Daehwi-“

His boyfriend talks too much and takes too much time to do the most natural of things and so he pulls his hands over Jinyoung’s neck until his long fingers meet the longer-than-they-should-be strands at the base of Jinyoung’s neck. He winds his hands into his hair tugging with the soft curls over his fingertips until their lips are a second away from each other. “Why do you always take so long to do everything?”

The haze that displayed Jinyoung’s brain wasn’t participating in this conversation so much as other body parts disappears. “I take long?” Daehwi lifts one leg, ready to slip out from under him but Jinyoung comes closer. “What am I not doing?” The question is innocent and full of genuine curiousity but is it Daehwi’s right to tell him? It would be so wonderful to let Jinyoung know that all he has to do is ask him to live together and then he won’t feel that way.

Does he have to feed him these answers? He’s okay driving this relationship forward but - he needs to know that Jinyoung’s not just a passenger. He has to be a co-pilot. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Jinyoung’s hands touch the edges of his cheeks.

“It’s nothing Jinyoung-ah. Tan’s taking too long.”

Jinyoung starts to laugh, just like he’d thought.  “Tan’s taking too long?” 

“To take a shit - he’s taking too long to take a shit and I spent most of my evening trying to teach him how to shit - and I’ve never taught anyone that and my back hurts and you were gone -“ Jinyoung pecks his lips before moving up but Daehwi’s already reached back up to minimize distance. Instead of moving back like Jinyoung’s trying to he grips the cuff of his boyfriend’s ironed blue shirt. Jinyoung always wore perfect and proper clothes when his parents were visiting him on campus. His boyfriend practically reeks of fresh laundry and a faintly lemon scent that makes him crawl drown and relish in the skin over Jinyoung’s neck-  
  
“OW - ow - ow!” Jinyoung slips off him holding his neck. “Why do you always bite back so hard?” 

OH. Shit?

His boyfriend is glaring at him, rubbing the would-be-hickey and all Daehwi can do is shrug. “I don’t know.” He does know. It’s because he loves him and he wants to cause him the smallest degree of pain. Jinyoung will never understand how he feels but if Jinyoung hurts a little physically then maybe it’ll be easier for Daehwi to cope with the emotional reality that Jinyoung doesn’t love him the way he wants him to.

God - and he thought dating a flopping MBA student was the unhealthiest relationship he’d ever be a part of. Did his ex fuck him up? Is all of this his problem? How does he fix it for Jinyoung? How does he make it so Jinyoung does what he wants him to do without ever knowing why he’s asking for it so desperately?

Jinyoung remains blissfully oblivious to the fact he’s dating a person with the most convoluted thinking in the world. “Dude, all you have to do to get Tan to shit is this -“He reaches over to grab the little Chihuahua, laughing as Tan all but tries to jump up to lick his face. “Yes, yes - I missed you too.” Jinyoung laughs as Tan adorns his face with little licks and kisses that leave his boyfriend looking like the most adored person this room.

Daehwi lets out a huff of breath as he watches Tan close his eyes, little crescents of pure unadulterated joy as Jinyoung gives the barely more than a sausage a belly rub for the ages. 

And then that piece of shit has the _audacity_ to smile smugly at him!

Sure - Daehwi’s not even really sure if Tan is smiling at him smugly because can Tan’s tiny little head even compute a smug smile and what it looks like?

But sure enough he feels a low rumble erupt from his throat and out of his mouth until it leaves the room in static mode as Jinyoung looks at him with one eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly ajar. “Did you just growl at Tan?” 

“No. Don’t be ridiculous.” With one roll of his eyes, the topic is passed over but yes he did growl at Tan and he’d do it again at the little - 

Well, it feels wrong to call Tan a bitch when the dog’s obviously a little bastard. “Daehwi - if you’re so stressed out taking care of Tan you didn’t have to volunteer.” There’s no judgement or guilt trip in Bae Jinyoung’s voice right now because he’s doing what he does best which is make things both easy and hard for people. This is easy because Daehwi has just gotten an out from taking care of Tan which is just what he wants but it’s not easy because - he wants them to raise Tan together. 

It’s a strange little conundrum in his mind that he’s certain would not exist if he was a normal boy with a normal mind and normal thoughts but -

Who decides what normal is anyways? “I want to be able to take care of him - it’s just hard when I’m alone.” He settles up with his back against the drawers and Jinyoung’s eyes flicker up from the pup to him.

Then he smiles, mostly to himself - Jinyoung does a lot of things alone that he thinks Daehwi won’t ever notice but how can he not? He’s 1) always thought Jinyoung was unreasonably handsome and 2) it’s these smiles that convinced him that he had to give Bae Jinyoung a shot even if Bae Jinyoung didn’t necessarily know he wanted a shot with him. 

One day, he’ll clean out his brain and figure out how to sort his chaotic thoughts but that day is certainly not today. “You’re kind of like him, you know. You’d think it’d be easier for the two of you to get along with me around -“

“Well - I suppose we both just happen to enjoy your company more than we enjoy our own company.” Jinyoung coughs looking up at him with red flushed cheeks which make Daehwi wonder how it is Jinyoung is completely comfortable planking on top of him in a manner that’s supposed to be as suggestive as it is caloric burning but he’s unable to swallow a vague compliment.

“Too real Daehwi- too real.” Jinyoung pulls himself across the floor until they’re sitting with their shoulders against each other. Tan’s placed promptly in his lap and Daehwi takes a breath as Jinyoung’s hands come over his and begin to circle on Tan’s belly. “See, not that hard.” 

“No, I guess not.” He nods along as Tan starts whining in his hands but he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing until the puppy yelps and runs off towards the pee pad -

No -

No - 

“You did it!” Jinyoung looks at him with a smile that’s ridiculously wide as Tan starts to go on his hind legs and sure enough - 

“I made him shit!” He wraps his arms around Jinyoung’s shoulders burying his head into the crook of his neck and shoulders. “God, that was hard.” 

When he pulls back, the smile on his face dims just a little. “The key is - not being afraid.” Afraid is all he’s ever been. Afraid for his family, afraid they’ll eat tonight, afraid Korea won’t be nice to him, afraid Kang Dongho will eat his heart for dinner - and then he was really afraid Dongho would eat up every shred of feeling in his body till he was left a lifeless soulless broken - “A few hours is okay - but we always have the vet and his energy levels need to be okay. Then you have nothing to worry about.” 

The only thing he’s never really been afraid of is Jinyoung. Pretty Jinyoung. Stupid Jinyoung. Mysterious Jinyoung - really nothing about Jinyoung scares him to his wit’s end and god - it feels good. It feels good to be able to sit beside him and look into his shining marble Shoujo anime inspired eyes and watch him go take care of Tan’s butt like it’s no big deal. “How are you so good at this?” 

“We should just live together - I mean it’d be a smaller space because I can barely afford this room but between the two of us - it should be okay, right?“ His eyes widen as he glances up at Jinyoung but as the other boy’s playing with Tan’s snout he hasn’t looked at him once. “It’s easier than shuffling responsibilities and it just makes more sense no?” Jinyoung turns to look at him with a smile in his eyes. “Unless you’d like to live with Guanlin for the rest of your -“

“Yes.” He’s hoping his yes isn’t too eager. 

Unfortunately, he also wasn’t really listening to Jinyoung. “You - want to live with Guanlin?”

“No, I want to live with you. It’s why I got Tan in the first place. So we could live together and raise the puppy like a family.” Now, Jinyoung’s laughing - or choking - either ways he looks like he’s going to pass out which is fair because Jinyoung’s not good at dramatics and Daehwi knows he was born with theatrics and conniving plots in his blood. “I just - I want us to be closer.”

“Daehwi -“ Jinyoung’s recovering from his cough but every syllable comes accompanied with a throat spasm. “Why didn’t you just ask?” 

“Ask?” Was that an option he’d passed by? “Why wouldn’t you just ask?”

“I - “ Jinyoung blinks one eyelid after another at a pace that feels positively snail like. “I - just did.” He pronounces, proud he’s managed to find an easy out from Daehwi’s all too valid question. “So - are you going to?”

“Going to?” If Jinyoung can worm his way out of it - no matter how much Daehwi wants to say yes - he’ll play the game. He likes playing games, he’s invented a few of them himself.

“Don’t mess around Daehwi -“ Jinyoung steps closer to him, hand laced through to his fingers. “I could retract the offer.”

Jinyoung starts laughing at him and he pulls his hand away and into the air. “I can’t tell man - if you were really serious you wouldn’t do that so - really you’re the one messing around -“

Jinyoung prepares his next argument with an obvious homage to Simba from Lion King as he lifts Tan in the air like he’s his child. “I’m not the one adopting Chihuahuas because I want to live with my boyfriend -“

He just likes - to do things - in weird ways. “I’m also just a good citizen giving dogs a home -“ He can go on forever. Talking is one of his special talents considering he’s good at spewing crap. 

“Daehwi -“ Jinyoung’s not as talented at banter as he is and he appears to have tired of their back and forth as he huffs and leans his forehead onto Daehwi’s own effectively silencing him. 

For a second, he does nothing because one of his favourite things in the world is basking in the feeling of Jinyoung’s heart pitter pattering up against his with the softest of atmosphere’s bubbling up their world till -

“Yes?” He blinks up at him, Jinyoung’s hands come over his face.

“I mean it.” He nods. Jinyoung brushes his hand up to his hair, down the side of his cheeks, under his earlobes, over his neck, between his ribs and into his heart. “I want to be with you so badly I’d adopt a dog for you too.”

His eyes fly open to see Jinyoung sticking his tongue out at him as he flattens his lips into a thin line - glaring up at him until Jinyoung’s dangerously close. “Shut up.” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jinyoung’s nose reaches his, eyes boring into his until the knots in Daehwi’s throat engorge to planetary measure and he feels like he’s submerged and drowned in the sheer force of everything Jinyoung doesn’t know he is. “Gladl-.”

He kisses Jinyoung first.

If he doesn’t - they’ll end up talking forever. 

And he’d like to start their happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did edit. I should edit more. I will edit? 
> 
> It might be shite and that’s all good and well but I need to exercise my writing brain or it’s going to die a slow and horrible death.
> 
> Also - I am a LOVE. I am a LOVE. I am a LOVE. 
> 
> (Writes more W1 fanfic)


	7. What's In A Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongho likes to swear alone.
> 
> Pinky likes to wallow alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I knew what this was outside of this - it ties in very well to one of my other stories but you won't be able to tell right away.
> 
> Alas for now - <3 enjoy my friends

_‘Is this what you came here for? All the way from China? To steal all the attention from us?’_

The words ring in her head painfully like a reminder of the failure that’s set into her bones.

They serve to instill in her that she is someone who can dance, and prance and entrance but –

She is nothing but an outsider and she will never really fit in here.

Everything that’s happened to her hasn’t really been her fault - surely they can see that.

Surely – the others can understand it’s not quite her fault that luck and fortune chose to bless her and leave them in the dark.

Surely, they must understand that in this spotlight she has burdens of her own to carry –

Surely, surely, surely –

The door bangs open and reflexively she cowers into a corner, not quite hidden from anyone’s view but not for lack of trying. “Shit fucker – shit fucker – mother fucker –“Hearing this much profanity in the closed walls of PLEDIS entertainment is something of a luxury. “Fucking piece of FUCK-“The voice pauses as he catches sight of her crouched form. “Oh, fuck.”

Pinky pokes her head out of the side of the stair railing she’s whispering all her irrational fears and miseries to. “Hello.”

This sets the boy in front of her into a greater frenzy, completely at a loss for comprehensible words as he starts to string sentences together like punches. “God you’re – wow – you’re one of those girls right – ah what did he call them – Play girls – worst name ever right?” She nods her head lightly as he claps his hands together. “Right – this will be our secret right?”

What’s a secret? That this stranger she doesn’t know knows how to swear and cuss at someone in the building in a way so openly brazen and wonderful that it makes her want to let him loose on the other girls in the building?

Her lack of clear response has beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. “Come on now – say something.”

“Pinky.” She points to herself. “I’m Pinky.”

He giggles to himself all too delighted as he points to his Polo shirt like he’s proud of the fact he’s wearing her namesake colour. “Jesus – that can’t honestly be your real name.” Pinky frowns a little but she decides to let it go because she still has no clue who he is or what he’s doing in this building. He could be a producer, or a vice president, or something ridiculous like Han Sung Soo’s dog’s best friend’s nephew three times removed – “It must fucking suck to be an idol in Korea huh?”

Her eyes widen when she sees him dig his fingers into the pockets of his starched dark jeans.

He hands her a cigarette but she quickly pushes it back in his hands as she puts her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Okay – okay – I get it.” He lights the cigarette, laughing a little harder as he leans his back against the wall and invites her to join his side. “For someone I’ve just met – I’m letting you know a lot of secrets about me.”

The flame burns beautifully bright, smoke inhaled before it’s blown back in her face making her cough and look at the stranger’s still laughing face in disgust. “Please stop.”

Politely, the stranger puts out his cigarette, bows his head and looks down over the railing of the balcony to where kids from the nearby apartment buildings have decided to turn the PLEDIS parking lot into their own private playground.

“Dongho by the way.”

She’s not sure what that word is. “What does that mean?”

His eyes spark up with a little more of a mischievous light in them. “Dongho?” She nods feeling a little more than offended that this man looks like he’s laughing at her expense.

How well does he speak Mandarin anyways? She’s willing to bet his Mandarin would make her grandmother want to cut her ears off. “I’m not from here.”

“From where then?” He asks back, polite as can be which – to be fair – is more than what the other people in this building have offered her up so far.

“China.” He can tell that her one word answers basically mean she's not interested in talking to him right?

“Ah.” Like this makes all the sense in the world, he places his head into his palms nodding with the full understanding of Albert Einstein on the eve of his discovery of general relativity. “I see the confusion now.”

“What does it mean?” She stresses a little harder since this fool doesn’t appear to take too well to answering questions as they’re asked.

“Dongho?” He points to himself again. Like a puppet. She resists the urge to ask if he likes to talk about himself all the time or if this is just another poorly phrased joke about the colour of his shirt matching the Idol!name this company has chosen to give her. “Dongho means most amazing person in the world.”

She’s pretty sure that’s not what it means but –

Whatever floats this weirdo’s boat. "Nice to meet you Dongho."

He smiles all too delighted that she's managed to get on the same wavelength as him. "You too, Pinky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guessed that this is an Internship add-on you would be correct. If I ever finish this story - I will try my best to post it outside of this rando collection.


	8. Prospect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daehwi has an agenda.
> 
> Jinyoung gets to fulfill it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO - I guess this is the weird AU that keeps on giving - 
> 
> Set before the events of Puppy Love and Oh, Look

“And I can buy anything I want?” 

“Anything you want.” Daehwi confirms with a flourish of his arm towards the rows and rows of bins before them. 

Jinyoung looks a little less sure, hands crossed over his chest as he looks to his outdated electronic watch.

It’s 10AM on a Saturday morning - and not the time for Lee Daehwi and Bae Jinyoung to be hanging out together but there they are anyways. Hanging out together. “I don’t know Daehwi - feels a bit strange - I should buy you something - I’m older than you -“

“Like I even believe in any of that hierarchical crap -“ He stalks off towards aisle 1 of the bulk shop to peer at the protein powders, baking powders, and the odd array of mineralized substances that look like they could moonlight cocaine on T.V. “Come on - what’s so weird about the fact that I want to buy you something? Am I not allowed to buy my friend whatever he wants?”

Daehwi does his best to not smile with that awkward wide smile of his that betrays what he’s thinking. 

Jinyoung lets out a sigh and relents to his fate, tagging along three steps back from him.

Buying Jinyoung things makes him seem like he’s a nice person (wrong). 

Buying Jinyoung things also makes him sound like a generous person (couldn’t be more delusional - Daehwi’s the most possessive prick on earth). 

Buying Jinyoung things then is definitely because he has an agenda.

Most agendas are disastrous or political. His thankfully are nothing of the sort (unlike Jinyoung’s usual project list).

Daehwi’s just testing him. You know - like you usually test best friends. Totally and completely normal and nothing out of the ordinary going on here.

This is just one small simple little test that Jinyoung’s not even aware he’s taking. 

“What do you normally get when you’re here?” Jinyoung asks, squinting through the fluorescent white light highlighting product after product

“Snacks.” The less information Daehwi provides his best friend, the less likely it’ll be that he’s mentally primed him to pass this test.

This lacklustre response doesn’t stop Jinyoung from looking at him a little bit irritated by the fact that Daehwi has not only dragged him out of bed early on a Saturday to go shopping to buy him something strange in a store he never frequents BUT he’s also being unhelpful. “Great.”

Negative 1. 

Daehwi’s a little disheartened that he has to score the scowling boy behind him this low but - it’s still only aisle 1 and they’re turning a corner.

Jinyoung has time to turn things around before they’re done shopping. “Boring in here, huh?”

He’s expecting a yes, but instead Jinyoung stalks past him, eyes rolled to the back of his head as he shuffles over to aisle 2. “Would be worse if I was alone.” His eyes widen as Jinyoung stops at a bin for the first time. “Cool...I didn’t know there’s like fifteen types of sugar you could use.” His friend twists to face him, bitter and sweet smile scrawled across his features. “Fifteen types of sweet - sounds like you kind of -”

Back to ground zero. “Uh - yeah sure. Just like you’re eighteen shades of salty.” He scoffs back resisting the urge to thread his elbow through Jinyoung’s arm, hanging so limply at his side like it’s just looking for a friend to call it’s own -

“Callous callous.” Jinyoung calls out admiring the myriads of sugar, spice and everything nice that surrounds them.

“Just get some snacks for the game later tonight -“

“You’re going right?” Jinyoung stops without warning and Daehwi collides in with his shoulder, groaning with the impact as the other boy starts to snicker right at him. “You’re so off today-”

“I’m not ‘off’.” He remarks snidely as Jinyoung smiles to himself in place of responding to his rebuttal. An intelligent decision since a debate of any sort would no doubt end in Jinyoung conceding anyways. “You’re ‘off’.” 

“What kind of weak-hearted insult is that? All mumbled like you want me to hear but don’t want me to respond at all?” Jinyoung rolls his eyes as they twist over through aisle 3 to walk straight into a plethora of concentrated, artificially flavoured, unicorn throw up coloured candy waiting for them. “Pass me the bag on the side -“

Plus one.  Finally! “Here you go.” He leans against the sweet blue gummy sharks as Jinyoung digs into the bin with the sour allen keys. “Taste-”

“I have it.” His only slightly older prospective life partner responds without a moment’s hesitation, body twisting with the bag of candied keys in hand as he waves off towards the rest of the aisle. “I have a feeling I’m going to like this part of the store. Finally, a reason to be here.”

Actually, the real reason Jinyoung is here is because - Jinyoung likes him.

And that’s a little weird in and of itself - beyond this whole test thing. 

After all, how many people have the chance to be aware of someone else’s feelings for them before the other person is even aware of it themselves?

Or maybe part of Jinyoung is aware of the fact that he likes his best friend romantically and he’s just that thick headed that even signals from his heart get lost in the pathways that kiss his thoughts. “What are you staring at?” 

Was he staring? Fuck. “Did you brush your hair today? Looks a bit messy -” Daehwi lets a hand run through the ends of Jinyoung’s hair and the other boy’s eyes shut on automatic, lips stretching wider just as predicted. 

For a long time, being friends worked well for them. 

Certainly it made a lot more sense in their first year of knowing each other because Jinyoung was a senior and Daehwi was a year younger and it was the older boy’s guidance that allowed him to settle in like he’d lived in Seoul all his life. 

And then Jinyoung went away - and life got a little dull, and a little grey and a little less made perfectly for him until he, like Jinyoung, on-boarded Guanlin and found another best friend. 

But that’s where things stopped making sense. 

Because when he met Jinyoung again - things just - didn’t feel the same. Like they could never feel the same.

Jinyoung points to a bin of round orange coloured, sour powdered candies. “Have you tried those ones?” 

“Fuzzy Peaches.” Jinyoung’s hand pats his cheeks repeatedly like he’s doing his best to slap them gently and Daehwi pulls back scowling. “What the -“

Jinyoung is a little less fazed. “Fuzzy peaches - like your face, idiot.” With his tongue stuck out in mockery, Jinyoung whips the lid of the bin open and Daehwi’s left standing there - half injured on his face and half stupefied in his brain. Jinyoung takes advantage of his open jaw to plop a peach candy piece in before chewing down on one himself. “Tasty.”

It isn’t like Jinyoung hasn’t touched him before. He has. Hell, Jinyoung spends most of his time lavishing him with little grasps of his arm, or whispers in his ears in the library or a quick hold of his hand on occasion when he’s being a bit slow - 

But in light of his experiment - there’s something scientifically electric about their exchange that leaves him a little less well. “You shouldn’t sample from the bin. That’s risking - like - ” A heart attack. “Germ - stuff.”

Jinyoung snorts. “Such a good boy our Lee Daehwi is.” 

Following the rules doesn’t make him good so much as it makes him a wimp. He’s afraid of trouble and after his most recent tango with it - he’s more than assured he’d spent most of his life being a wimp for good reason until Kang Dongho decided he wanted to ruin it. “I’m not the one trying to change the world -“

“Try then!” Oh god, he’s gotten Jinyoung excited about the possibility of him joining his stupid cause. He loves Bae Jinyoung, as a friend and possibly one day as something more, but he is not - joining - the stupid - “Student Union’s always looking for representatives from other departments and music students almost never join -“

With good reason. Politics and art are often at arms and with good reason. Art is born from neglect. The job of politics is to neglect. “We have enough trouble getting the student union to listen to us at the arts commission and you’re just a lowly campaigner - you should know better than anyone - change is just a word to these people.”

Jinyoung frowns, soured by his friend’s destitute disposition. “Everyone starts somewhere Daehwi.” 

“If everyone starts somewhere - where did you and I start?” The question is strange enough that it wedges a slice of distance between them. 

Aisle four. 

“Where did we start?” Jinyoung responds with a little more puzzle to his tone like he’s trying to connect two different conversations together. 

He should take off marks for this apparent display of confusion but his mind is having a spot of trouble understanding what organ inside of him gave permission for him to utter these words at all to Jinyoung. “I mean - as friends - as best friends - when did you realize you - liked me that way?

God. Could he be any more obvious?

Jinyoung snickers to the back of his hand. “You’re such a sap tree.”

“Am not.” He assures him as Jinyoung continues to laugh at his expense for even asking this question.

On any other boy, watching this laugh would hurt but with Bae Jinyoung it can’t because Daehwi knows what he’s trying to do is understand what Jinyoung feels is between them because the other boy simply refuses to unravel what’s already inside of him. 

And if starting that process for Jinyoung involves Daehwi making himself a little more vulnerable - then he’ll do it. “I suppose it was your first day here on campus?” He nods along as Jinyoung marvels into a bin of glossy coated chocolate almonds. “You were trying to juggle your books and your schedule and I realized that without me - Lee Daehwi will always be just a little bit helpless.” He gulps back the knot forming all too quickly in his throat. “And then - what was worse - was I realized I wanted to help the helpless kid anyway I could.”

Jinyoung marches ahead to the multicoloured Hershey’s Kisses and Daehwi stops in the aisle, watching as the other boy once again pops one open and puts it into his mouth before folding the foil into a mini heart and throwing it his way.

He catches it, silver tin foil acting becoming his antenna as he starts to receive signals he’s not sure how to decipher.  “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I don’t know - “ Jinyoung remarks sarcastically pointing towards the garbage bin behind him. “Toss it out.”

Jinyoung turns back around and Daehwi’s fingers tuck the foil heart into his pocket. It feels a little cruel to throw that small piece of Jinyoung’s heart away when he himself doesn’t listen to it. 

He’s no fool though - there’s still no real conclusive evidence that Jinyoung likes him other than what he feels within himself. 

But he’d like to think he understands them a little more than Jinyoung does. “All done?”

Jinyoung nods, four bags in tow filled to the brim with a range of candies and chocolates and surprisingly pretzels. “You like these right?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to get them for me -“

“Why not - aren’t we sitting together tonight?” There’s an edge of defensive in his tone and Daehwi feels his eyes glance downwards. “You can bring that damn Guanlin kid - and I’ll even try to not get jealous but does he always have to speak so much English around you?” His smile blossoms inwards and Jinyoung’s scowl only intensifies on his face. “What?!”

“Nothing. Nothing.” 

Plus 3. 

And third time’s the charm. “You didn’t get anything, huh?”

Daehwi pulls his wallet out just as he drags his best friend by the hand over to the cashier, plopping plastic bags on her metal counter as she offers them displeased looks for their candy tinted orange lips. “I didn’t?” 

Jinyoung looks at him like he’s an idiot.

Daehwi looks at Jinyoung like he’s the best thing he’s ever gotten. “You’re so off today, Daehwi.” 

“You’re so on today, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung slams his hips into his side and Daehwi bursts out laughing like he’s the one getting a set of carefully selected candy.

Jinyoung looks even more bewildered. 

It’s okay.

In a few hours, Bae Jinyoung will understand. 

In a few hours, Daehwi’ll take a small leap of faith towards what he thinks is the right direction for them. 

He’ll kickstart the heartbeats Jinyoung’s long ignored for the dreams swirling in his mind. 

He’ll make the first move and change the comfortable existence they’ve embraced so readily.

“So - what time should I meet you at the game?” 

As they walk out towards the dorms, Daehwi shrugs. “How about I meet you there?”

“Cool enough. Well, thank you for this weird morning excursion - this is me.” He points towards the building like Daehwi hasn’t spent many a night there taking over half his bed. 

And for a second - he doubts himself because as much as Jinyoung passed this test. He’s not sure if he, Lee Daehwi, can pass the test he wants to put himself through later tonight. At least, not without some sort of assurance that at least this time - his heart won’t be broken into complete tatters. “Hey Jinyoung -“

“Yeah?” Jinyoung asks, never looking up from his phone.

He shuts his eyes, deep breath filling his lungs before he asks as softly as possible. “You like me, right?”

Jinyoung stops typing on his phone as he looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

And it feels like such a foolish question Daehwi wants to take it back but instead there’s just silence swirling around them and he wants nothing more than to ask himself to be more confident in the future - 

Jinyoung’s arms wrap over his shoulders, laughing into his ears. “Like you would ever need to ask me that.”

He lets out a breath, head leaned into Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Thanks.” 

Jinyoung parts from him, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “For what?”

He probably thinks he’s being taken advantage of. In some ways, Jinyoung’s not wrong. “For being you.” 

“An annoying conspiracy theorist who spends most of his nights talking your ear off?” 

That’s an apt description. “Yeah. That.” 

“Well, thank you too.”

This time it’s his turn to look confused. “For what?”

“For being Lee Daehwi - “ Jinyoung bops his nose teasingly before turning around on his feet and walking backwards towards the elevator. “The only person I can’t seem to stay away from no matter how hard I try.” 

Bae Jinyoung is laughing all the way to the elevator and Daehwi leans his head against the glass door of the lobby entrance. 

Yeah, fuck it. He’s going to kiss the living daylights out of Bae Jinyoung tonight. 

And Bae Jinyoung will only have himself to blame for everything changing.


	9. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hwang Minhyun falls in love at first sight.
> 
> Ong Seongwu doesn't make it.
> 
> Choi Minki might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FEW THINGS:  
> 1) this is a thriller. or at least - my attempt at transcribing a thriller.  
> 2) please do not read this if you do not feel comfortable reading thrillers or watching thrillers. If you need an example of a thriller: it's basically Gone Girl and anything that makes you feel super F-ed up after watching/reading it  
> 3) This story is based on the initial opening/ending sequence of the Netflix/Lifetime drama named - 'YOU'. Similar to 'The Imposters' which is crime/mystery and so a genre I don't dabble in - I felt a need to have my binge session of 10 episodes impact my writing positively so I gave myself a shot at trying to write a slightly different version of YOU using P101/W1 universe and also just experimenting  
> 4) YOU is pretty freaking great - please go watch it if you like thrillers (which tbh is one of my favourite genres ever even if I can't write it to save my life)
> 
> Okay that's it. Good luck. also sorry.

**You.**

 

 

 

_This is how we start._

_You walk into the store, face flicked up like you’re proud of the way you look and you want everyone to revel in the force of your smile accompanied by the platinum blonde of your hair. You look nice and that’s what you want to show everyone but – there, yes, just under that crinkle of your eyes is that glint._

_That glint that tells me you think you’re better than this place._

_You don't frequent bookstores. You don't need to. You're that type of handsome that's grown up handsome and away from matted old sheets of ink and paper._

_You’re a fish out of water but what's hilarious is you think - you’re a lion walking into a cage full of prey._

_It’s cute, if a little sad, considering you’re the rabbit, bouncing from display to display like you’re trying to while the time away. You already regret coming in here but you've made it all this way and so turning around without getting what you've come for - that's not something you want to do._

_I'm trying not to judge a book by it's cover - I really am - but your clothes? They're practically screaming things about you from over there._

_You have a black leather jacket on. I can tell that you picked it out because it shows you off. Makes you stand out - more than you already do._

_Part of me wants to come up to you, tell you that you don’t need to try so hard to keep people’s attention – you’re more than what most people can handle anyways._

_But that feels intrusive – we don’t know each other. We’re strangers._

_I can handle you though. I'm sure of that._

_For now, I’ll let you think that the jacket is responsible for the way those two girls by George Eliot can’t keep their eyes off you like they're coquettish society in Middlemarch themselves._

_You’re also wearing a shirt._

_Sorry – that feels inappropriate. The stretch of fabric is far too thin and sheer to be referred to as a shirt - but I'm not sure what else to call it. It clings to you, black and tight and if it was clear - I might refer to it as saran wrap._

_You’re challenging fashion standards. You like doing that. You like having people look twice and smile or frown or whatever it is – you like getting that reaction because it means that today you made someone notice you._

_You’re pale too – like snow – like white white snow pretty and untouched –_

_Oh - wait a second -_

_That was naive of me. There’s a little spot there , right by your neck, red and purple covered with a tone of pink-beige that doesn’t match you._

_I'm laughing. You tried. You tried._

_Ah wait - that's why you're so proud as you saunter the shelves! Finally! I understand. Whatever scar you came out of that fight with, the person on the other end must have at least a few more tattoos in the shape of your jaw on their body._

_You’re beautiful._

_Confident._

_Different._

_Someone I haven’t seen before. Or bothered to look at._

_It’s a little scary for me too, you know? I’m not – I’m not used to people like you. You’re not my type. Not usually._

_But I’m warm just looking at you and you’re smiling into the shelves like you have a secret you want to tell them that I’m not privy to and I’m jealous. My ears flickering red like they’re going to start running to you if I don't push myself to get there first._

_I think we should talk. I think we’ll get along well and I don’t think you’ll make the first move – you barely see me. You haven’t had a chance to fall in love at first sight yet._

_Should I give you a chance?_

_Am I rushing us?_

_I should stop –_

_There is a chance that our personalities just - won't mesh._

_Something tells me you’re straightforward, curt and someone who doesn’t bother with mess. I could use that in my life. I don’t like messes. I make them. I clean them up. But I don’t like them._

_You feel far. Removed. Built up like a fantasy._

_You’re intriguing._

_What more can I say?_

_Forgive me for interrupting whatever it is you want to whisper to the poetry section of the store -_

_It's just - I want a bite too._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you finding everything okay?”

“Sorry?!”

The stranger’s hand flies off the shelf and into his hair like he’s upset he’s been caught doing something he doesn’t usually do.

Minhyun holds back a smirk of his own, looking up to the book half-pulled out of the shelf still waiting to be claimed by the hands that reached for them.

Instead of reaching up, this stranger's hands reach behind their back, shy and bashful and hiding because they don't want to call themselves the owner to one of his favourite books. ‘‘ ' _Because You Are Precious Just The Way You Are’_?”

The tall blond in front of him laughs. It’s a high pitched pretty sound like a child mismatching notes on a xylophone. “Someone scammed me into thinking Kim Ji Hoon is a genius. I heard it’s good for light reading?”

Kim Ji Hoon is a genius but the man in front of him doesn’t look like the sort who reads Kim Ji Hoon – at least not without some prompting. Kim Ji Hoon's melancholic words are made for those with pain in their hearts who need a little - relief of a different sort.

Minhyun steps forward so he’s standing by the stranger’s warm smile. He’s in near enough vicinity that he can appreciate the other man’s perfectly formed features like the heart thumping in his chest wants him to – but he knows better.

That’s not how this dance works.

He’s no pro – not at all – but he has danced this dance before and he doesn’t want to get the steps wrong. Not with this man. “A lot of people have found strength in those passages and poems.” He looks up at the book, fingers reaching for the tip of the spine to pull it out and hand it over to his deflective customer who tries – for all of a second – to pretend he doesn’t want it. “Far be it from me to be in the way of your light reading.”

They’re close enough now that when Minhyun turns back to rearrange books at the shelf, he’s too aware of the man behind him, close enough that Minhyun can feel ragged little breaths run down the back of his neck.

Isn’t that a little too close to come off casual?

Then again, when he turns around to see the other man offer him a smirk and the small rise of his left eyebrow – he’s not sure casual is what this stranger wants to communicate.

He’s overthinking this. Projecting his emotions onto a man who’s simply confused as to why the stacks in his store are so close together that  two people can't fit in them comfortably -“Sorry – not sure what’s happening here.” The stranger addresses first and Minhyun’s eyes flash up careful to betray nothing of what’s in his mind. “I swear - I’m not trying to hold you back.” Oh, he knows. If anything, he's the one trying to hold this stranger back as they shuffle around each other. "Somehow I can’t seem to find my way around you. Not that it’s that bad. You’re fine to invade my personal space the way you are.”

He’s supposed to laugh that off, so he does. Expressing genuine interest in this stranger will scare him away and doing anything else would be too professional – it’ll cut the hesitant play they’ve started to perform for each other too short.

“Let me help you take care of that.” With a forgiving smile and an easy parting from each other, they emerge from the rows upon rows of books he calls home.

Minhyun wants to look back at him but he keeps his eyes fixed on the tips of his own shoes – perfectly white sneakers that appear to have caught a scuff on them.

His insides twist, programmed pain lighting up the synaptic connection between his nerves until the low hum of tinnitus rings in his ears-

Clean - clean - clean - 

“This is my first time in here.” His eyes flash open, the sound disappears. Did this stranger just do that? Did he just save him from his own mind?

When he turns back he’s touched by the friendly smile on this stranger’s face as he leaps forward so they walk side by side to the register.

It's his turn to say something witty now. “Not mine. Unfortunately.” There isn’t anything profound about what he’s said but it earns him a laugh and Minhyun knows they’re walking down a slippery slope when his heart swells in pride that he’s capable of making this stranger laugh at all. He is not, by nature, funny. “Who was it that recommended Kim Ji Hoon to you?”

The question is supposed to bring them together, deepen the fragile bond they’re building but instead it takes his stranger far away to a land he isn't able to reach. “A friend said it helped him get through some tough times.”

This is it.

This is his chance to say something – anything – that will help the memory of his face stick in the other man’s mind beyond just ‘ _bookstore guy’_. “I can guarantee you if it’s motivation you’re looking for. You’ll find it here. His words, they aren’t just words. They’re lessons to hold close to your heart, meant to prepare you for the worst while you hope for the best.”

The stranger puts his hands against the dark wood of the counter, thumbs tapping against the stale gold of the antique lamp that hasn’t been flickered on since Minhyun was ten years younger and manning this same counter. “Is that what you're trying to do at this store? Motivate people?"

There’s a lot those words could mean – especially when this man's lashes close over sparkling brown eyes, beguiling in their unsaid request for Minhyun's thumb to follow the outline of his lips.

He shakes his head, eyes caught once again captive by the colour of this stranger’s skin. Milky. Creamy. Pale. All over -  “We aim to serve. Serving you would be a  -” He coughs through a knot in his throat pleasant smile on his face as he flips the book over and scans the code in. “Pleasure. That’ll be 12,000 won. How will you be paying?”

He hears a huff; a disappointed puffery of the stranger’s cheeks and the sort of unsatisfied expression that rises when your prayer is crushed under the heels of reality.

The stranger takes his wallet out.

There’s cash. More than enough to cover the charge of the book and yet when Minhyun’s eyes draw up to his lips again he sees them sound out the perfect syllables of –“Credit please.”

Credit means he gets more than he asked for – like a name – Choi Minki. (The card is expiring in three months too – and the signature is a bit of a comical joke considering it’s the rough sketch of a cat paw).

In a movie, he’d get Choi Minki’s number right now, scribbled half-thought out on the back of a receipt and passed with a kiss or a smile. They’d promise to meet over dinner, maybe at an Italian restaurant. They’d try for 7:30 but make it around 8:00 because traffic in Seoul is horrible and both of them know that and would forgive the other’s tardiness.

From there they’d get dessert and the rest would be history because that’s how their story would start.

Hwang Minhyun and Choi Minki – love at first sight.

It'd be great...but movies are not reality.

All they have for now is this rehearsal of a flirtation that Minki has them participating in for two reasons:

  * To prepare himself for future partners who will fit the social, demographical and geographical limitations of his standards
  * And – in a less complicated manner – to boost their egos



Anything more is not possible for them. Minki is a customer. He is a book store manager. There are rules and steps and a process to follow - not from his store but from the digital age they live in. Partner selection in today’s time abhors instant physical attraction in favour of a more computerized process.

He cannot bypass any of that simply because his heart desires that sheer top wearing Choi Minki doesn’t leave this place without his name on his lips. “Receipt in the book, okay?”

“Sure.” Minki agrees, fingers lingering just the slightest over his as the book is passed from hand to hand and a torch is flickered on. This is fate. He knows it – Minki knows it – and yet they’re doing nothing and their story is over before it even began. It's unfortunate - too unfortunate - “Sorry – I never did catch your name?”

Yes, Minki feels it too - he's sure of it. “Hwang Minhyun.” He offers a little too helpfully even to his own ears. His eagerness doesn’t turn him immediately repulsive in Minki's eyes.

If anything, Minki's charmed by the way he shyly giggles and offers him a grateful smile. “Right, thank you again, Minhyun. Next time I’m in the mood for some motivation – I’ll come find you. Your presence itself here - I think it'll motivate me to come back.”

Minki is teasing him. Wow - they're at that stage already?

He shrugs it off, bowing his head as is expected of him. Minki can't know what's in his head.

Minki steps back out of the brown and white paneled doors, bell chiming his exit out for the rest of the patrons to hear as though he didn’t just change Minhyun’s whole world within ten minutes.

On automatic, his feet draw towards the door, face wandering over to the bookshelves by the window so he’s sure he’s hidden from the people passing their window displays.

There isn’t a point. To looking. He knows that.

Their story is over and Minki’s not turning around to look back at him either -

But how great would it be if Minki did turn around to give him a second glance?

“Who was that?” Aron calls out from behind him where he’s rearranging the Science Fiction section so that Pike is decipherable from Clarke.

“Someone looking for Kim Ji Hoon.”

“Another depressed soul, huh?” Aron laughs. “It's the new year - forces people to re-evaluate their life. Hope that person finds strength in Kim Ji Hoon's words, then."

Minhyun can’t help but agree.

A little beyond the show of arrogance is someone who looks - vulnerable and scared.

Minki turns the corner and disappears into the park and Minhyun stares after him.

Choi Minki is the complete opposite of what he’s usually attracted to – the unreal physical depiction of a CGI generated beauty.

His hands itch to his phone, ready to pull it out like a weapon of mass destruction. “Hey Aron? I’ll be in the back if you need me. Want to spend a little time cataloguing the new arrivals.”

Ever helpful, Aron waves a hand in his direction and he disappears into the office where green walls and a dark red escritoire wait for him to lean over and fulfill his mission.

Minki is intriguing; someone who’s piqued an interest Minhyun had promised he’d look away from because it only ever brings him trouble - but right now there’s one question killing him and one question only.

Who is Choi Minki?

A little harmless search isn’t going to do anything? Right?

Besides – he isn’t capable of hurting anyone like Minki. If anything, it’s the other way around. Minki looks like he'd chew him up and spit him out for breakfast.

In the old days, he would have had to ask Minki himself, or maybe Minki’s friends to piece together an identity.

Thankfully, today he has his phone and countless websites where Minki will willingly offer a picture of himself for the world to see if he’s that much of a narcissist.

His lips quirk up.

Facebook. Instagram. Twitter. Minki even has a Tumblr account.

All set to public – just asking to be scavenged for information about him.

Go figure.

Minki, like him, is originally from Busan. He has two cats and a mother. The father doesn’t appear to be in any photos.

Minki also doesn’t appear to have any one person in all his photos which usually means there’s no significant other in the picture to be concerned about.

The only people who feature prominently on his profile are his friends. Park Jihoon, who looks to be an influencer of some sort if his follower count is any indication. There’s Kim Jonghyun who works as a PD at a T.V. broadcasting station and – Kang Baekho.

Kang Baekho?

No, he can’t be reading that right.

A quick perusal of Kang Baekho’s identity confirms Minhyun's suspicions. Kang Baekho is, indeed, the great grandson of Kang Dongwook - the man who singlehandedly revolutionized their country's view on the established practice of monarchy. He also happened to do all of this with a very deft hand writing, at that time, underappreciated fiction during the Samsil movement of the early 1900s.

Not that Baekho appears to know the type of heritage he comes from. Kang Baekho, like most of his family that Minhyun's read about,  has used their almost royal pedigree to grow and improve their family's influence in a more political manner. He travels, eats, and generally squanders his money away like some overfed pig – more often than not with Minki leaning on his shoulder laughing into the lens of the camera.

Baekho and Minki go back. Way back. Like far enough that his thumb is starting to hurt from all this scrolling. The two of them practically grew up together, attached at the hip.  There’s pictures of them screaming into each other's faces with the same sweatshirts on, or pictures of lavish parties where they're pouring drinks into each other's mouths or pictures where they're on vacation and holding onto each other - a lot. 

It's worrisome - almost.

Every picture of the two of them has one thing consistent - Baekho's hands on Minki's body, looking into his eyes like he doesn't want to look away.

He's almost ready to call it quits until he catches sight of the pretty little female in every picture Minki's not in, hanging off Baekho's arm as he looks to her with what Minhyun can only describe as a stressed smile.

According to LinkedIn, Baekho also appears to be an investment banker who never actually does any work.

But enough about Kang Baekho who doesn’t have a clue of how important a lineage he comes from (those book royalties alone probably would be enough to support his entire family).

The important thing is Minki is single and it doesn’t matter whose credit card he uses when he's out binge drinking with his friends (although a part of Minhyun wishes Minki didn't drink at all. His liver can't be doing well, he's out almost every weekend and usually tweeting up an ugly storm from home right after).

Minki himself is a model and a dancer. He teaches part-time at a studio. The studio’s name is Hump – something about this strikes him as crude but Minki appears to enjoy the working atmosphere. Their main mission is to: ‘ _Revitalize your inner energy and align your body goals with reality_ ’.

He scoffs looking through their instagram posts. It's just sweaty women in overpriced athleisure wear. Nice way of saying they like to help working moms pay exorbitant fees to develop backsides  their husbands can grab onto so they can relive the passions of their youth.

What he also gets to see is the many - many - sweaty, videos of Minki dancing away in front of the mirrors.

Of course. How could he not have seen it yet? The rest of his friends appear to have some minor clout in the Seoul social scene, Jihoon is an influencer, Jonghyun knows celebrities like the back of his hand and Baekho is a socialite – but Minki?

Minki wants to be famous…but he’s still in the wings, hiding backstage. The sidekick. More striking to the eyes than his friends but that’s where it ends for him because the cameras always seem to ask his friends to stand at the front and Minki ends up at the back, only visible from the neck up. 

Pity.

He’d like to be able to change that if Minki will have him. If their story is meant to be.

There’s a knock on the door and he turns to see Aron slide the panel open to smile at him. “All done with Sci-Fi boss man! Arthur C. Clarke –  my homie -  would be proud at how much shelf space we gave him.”

He likes Aron - when Aron speaks real English. “That’s great Aron – I’ll be out in a sec and then we can start working on repairing some of those Joyce books that came in.”

Aron salutes him like a general to a soldier. “Sure thing, boss.”

He does have a job he needs to get back to – internet stalking a customer will have to be saved for later –

He should just – check – one – last thing.

He finds a picture of Minki, staring into the camera on what appears to be a bed – wrapped up in covers and pajamas as he stares soulfully into the lens with the caption:

                                 

 ‘ _Find strength within yourself and you’ll never be left feeling alone’_

 

It’s a little generic but it plucks and plays on his heartstrings till Minhyun feels like he's hearing the swell of a grand orchestra at the backs of his ear drums.

It is meant to be. He’s sure of it.

“Hey Aron!”

Choi Minki is different than the others. Sure, Minki’s a bit of a drinker, and spends too much time trying to be like his friends and appears to be very vain but Minki’s also nice, has a genuine affection for pets and cares for his family and – is meant to be his. 

Somehow – he has a feeling this is going to be great. This is going to be it.

“Yeah Minhyun?” Aron ducks his head back in. “Ready to work on the Joyces?”

Minhyun and Minki. It almost sounds melodic

He reaches for his coat, a small smile on his face. “Let’s get to that tomorrow – I’m going to step out for the rest of the day if that’s all right –“

“Looks like you’re forgetting something Hwang Minhyun –“

His eyes widen.

That voice is not Aron’s.

He turns to look behind him and on the armchair directly to his right is Ong Seongwu, about 200 pages deep into Wuthering Heights.

That's not possible - Ong Seongwu is definitely a figment of his imagination. He remembers crying as he saw Seongwu rip page after page of Wuthering Heights like he was ripping limbs of his body.

“Minhyun…” Aron calls out gently and Minhyun startles turning back to his coworker a little more disturbed than he was a second ago. “You were saying something?”

From behind him, Seongwu gets up from the chair and starts to pace around him in circles. “What is it about my face that you don’t like?”

Very little. He loves Seongwu’s face, spends most nights trying not to remember the feeling of it under his hands.

“Minhyun, dude you’re freaking me out.” Aron snaps his fingers in front of him and Minhyun's forced back to living in the line between his reality and his delusion. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, Minhyun.” Seongwu taunts, a sweet little smirk playing on his lips as his naughty hands reach for Minhyun's hips to pull them together until he can feel Seongwu pressed into his back. It doesn't feel foreign, it just feels like more of him - repeated over and over and over and over again until - “Are you feeling okay?”

Who said that?

He looks between Aron’s concerned expression and Seongwu’s mischievous one. It's no secret who he should be responding to. “Would you lock up for me tonight, Aron?”

“Yeah, of course.” Aron bumps him on the shoulder with a fist. “You go do you.”

“Go – do – you. God, can you believe he actually talks like that? Although, I should add - he should be careful. He definitely doesn't want you to do - you know - 'you'.” Seongwu’s fingers tickle right over the edge of his waist band and he hears himself bite back a groan. “Come on Minhyun-ah, you couldn’t have forgotten what we had together so quickly could you? You – used to say – Seongwu this – and Seongwu ah!”

It’s been months now. Months.

Can’t Seongwu give it up?

Isn’t that long enough for one man to suffer the ghost of his past?

Doesn’t he deserve a second chance at love?

Aron shuts the door and Minhyun whips around, pushing Seongwu’s mental presence as far away from him as possible. A rather useless task given with the blink of an eye, Seongwu’s back up in front of him.

Imaginations are a great and terrible thing.

“You really think Choi Minki is going to be ‘different’?” Seongwu laughs. “Don’t fool around Minhyun – I wasn’t the problem. You were. You’re always going to be the problem whether it's me - or this Choi Minki.”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to answer and give into him. Seongwu was the one who cheated on him. Seongwu was the one who pushed him to do so many terrible things in the name of his love – to keep him, to hold him, to ask for him back.

What right does Seongwu have to pre-emptively judge what he may or may not have with Minki? “What do you think is going to happen, Minhyun? You’re going to go waltz into his life and ask to clean it up and Minki’ll say yes please and reward you with the dicking of your life?”

Growls start to make their way into his throat. He shouldn’t give in.

He knows Seongwu isn’t here – and he isn’t delirious enough to want to engage in whatever it is this version of his ex-boyfriend wants him to engage in.

“Well, just –“ Seongwu pauses, coming close to him so he can run a hand down the side of his body before leaning just close enough for their lips to touch. “Take care of him, okay?” Seongwu presses a kiss to his eyes, his mouth, his nose – all the parts of Seongwu's face that he feels in his own hands like it was just yesterday when they parted last. “The same way you took care of me.”

Seongwu shifts back, eyes shut tight, moaning his name like it's the only thing he remembers again and again and again and again - until it turns into screams.

Minhyun watches in terror, trying his best not to follow Seongwu and scream himself. He covers his ears and bolts right out of the bookstore, horror lodged in his throat. 

He's not a bad person. He's not a bad person.

Hwang Minhyun and Choi Minki.

It’ll end better than Hwang Minhyun and Ong Seongwu did.

It has to.

He's not strong enough to do that again. To bear the pain of what he had to do to regain his sanity after what happened with Seongwu.

Killing the person you love – that’s not an easy mess to clean up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who indulged this Lilli writing VERY much out of her comfort zone. thank you. and sorry if i emotionally scarred you.
> 
> blame penn badgley. sexy hipster dan! who has stolen my heart for the second time in my life. (JK - when I was watching gossip girl as a twen - I was obviously a chuck/blair fan. honestly though my taste did get an upgrade watching it as an adult when i switched to team dan/blair)
> 
> Also because I will never actually write the full intensity of this AU and for those of you who may be mildly curious as to how You turns out:  
> Minhyun is Joe, Minki is Beck, Baekho is Peach (should have been Daniel....would have made more sense with that name but I wanna sail Baekren) and Seongwoo is Candace.
> 
> Although in this AU I'd like to think Aron saves Minki from dying (eventually).
> 
> As you can tell - I have a lot of feels about this T.V. show.

**Author's Note:**

> Published bc i’m On vacay and i cannot publish jack shit rn bros so this random drabbleses is what anyone who follows what i write gets :) 
> 
> And if you’re here for the fun’s - i hope you had the funs <3
> 
> Ps i’m On twitter sometimes - at [lillith_evans](https://twitter.com/lillith_evans)


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